Rising Flames
by Ambere
Summary: "Katniss!" I shouted, just as the crowd began to buzz. The crowd fell silent. "Katniss, you're hurt. Stop this!" This was futile, I knew. "The female tribute of District Twelve is Primrose Everdeen."
1. Chapter 1: Delicate

Chapter One: Delicate

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.

Author's Notes: Yay, I'm doing a fanfic for one of the awesomest (is that a word? xD) books ever!! You could call it a twisted Hunger Games rewrite…because this time, it's Prim who's the star of the show!!

I heard the slight sound of scuffling and the door opening quietly. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that the wooden bowl I had used to cover my little round ball of cheese was sitting back up, so I knew Katniss had taken my gift to her for the Reaping.

I wondered if she was going to meet up with Gale, again, to try and bring in a small feast for our families to have after the Reaping is over.

I slowly reached my hand out of the bundle of blankets my mother and I have wrapped ourselves in, and tenderly scratch Buttercup, who had positioned himself in front of me, behind the ears.

I wanted to get some more sleep, but something nagged at me to wake up. So I did. The chilly air enveloped around my body as I carefully untangled myself from my warm blankets and stood up.

Shivering, I considered sliding back into warmth with my mother, but instead, I put on my boots, and started to change to thicker clothes. I thought of Katniss, handily supporting our family and spending the morning hunting with Gale.

Sometimes I wondered what it would feel like to have little sister looking up to you, to share time with a close friend that knew you like no one else would.

I know Katniss cared too much about me, and how I must look to her – fragile beauty, like a primrose that could be crushed any second; delicate.

--Katniss POV--

Gale whistled as I pinned down a good piece of prey on the way back from fishing. This would be, we decided, the last kill for the day. We counted what we have got so far.

"Hm…I recall having an extra bag of strawberries," Gale pondered, looking over our cache. "I think I must have left it behind at the lake after we finished fishing."

I nodded. "I'll go back for it. Can't have people seeing someone stealing strawberries."

Gale laughed. "As if anyone would go that far." He didn't need to tell me to be careful. That's what I like about Gale. We don't need any useless words to communicate what we say to each other. We already knew.

I trekked down the familiar path to the lake. The lake was something beautiful, and it would've been more if the times we were living in didn't call for being alert at all times.

Spotting the forlorn bag of strawberries beside our favorite fishing spot, I quickly picked it up, wiped the juices that dripped from leaks, and hurried back to Gale.

Gale acknowledged my presence with a grin before getting down on his stomach and scooting under the supposed electric fence.

I slide our food under, and get ready to shimmy under the fence too.

Half of my body was through the hole when I twisted my head to see if I could fit through. Then it came. I heard the faint humming noise coming up from both sides of the fence.

Electricity.

Rather than react quickly and try and pull my leg out like most, I froze. The electricity would've surely shocked me if I had tried to move to quickly.

Gale swept his eyes around before crouching down on the opposite side of the fence. "Think you can pull this off?" he muttered, looking at the electrified fence, his eyes wide.

We had never encountered this before.

I slowly trailed my body out from under the fence back to my side.

"Go on without me, Gale. I'll wait in one of the trees until the electricity dies down," I say.

Gale nodded, and headed off.

After about an hour, though, the electricity was still going strong. So I waited, until I realized I still had to get cleaned up for the Reaping. And I didn't want anyone worrying about me.

I climbed across the tree's outstretched branch and get ready to jump across the livened fence. I knew such a feat would come with a price, but Gale would surely come back, and I didn't want to look like I couldn't handle something like this.

I swung a leg over, and kneeled steadily on the limb. But I still waited, if there was any chance the electricity would stop.

After a long while, I decided it was time to move. I didn't know what time it was, but I knew everyone would have to be present for the Reaping.

I launched myself over the fence, but a voice unsteadied my planned fall.

"Katniss!"

The sound was a light, delicate one. But it was enough to make me twist my body, and land on my right knee.

"Katniss! Katniss, are you alright?!"

The pain shot up from the knee and flooded through my mind, I gritted my teeth hard, trying to redirect my mind.

I weakly opened them to a blue eyed girl, with soft blonde hair, and a thin, frail frame. My sister, Prim. Following behind her quickly was Gale.

I opened my mouth to say something, but my throbbing knee wound sent out waves of pain throughout my entire body, until my vision zoomed in and out of darkness. I did manage to say one thing, though.

"Prim, it's not your fault."

--Prim POV--

Despite Katniss's words, I felt again what I had felt over the past few years, since my mother had fell into a deep, dark hole: a burden.

I was always the fussy one, yet I seem to do little to contribute to the cause.

I watched Gale pick Katniss up in his strong arms and heard myself asking him, "It's my fault isn't it?"

Gale shook his head. "Of course not, Prim. Anyone jumping from that height would've had to be injured anyhow. C'mon, let's get her to your mother's. Maybe she can heal up before the Reaping."

He quietly lead the way back, and at first sight of Katniss, my mother's worry seemed to wash over her face; but was quickly replaced by a professional façade.

"Set her down on the table, and tell me what happened."

Gale looked at me, and I feel something rush up inside me again. "Well," I said, telling her what happened.

My mother frowned as I finished quickly. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing…but her knee is dislocated, and some bones in her wrist are fractured. It could take a while to heal…"

Fear went through me. "If she can't use her hand, or her foot, how's she going to hunt?"

Gale was standing by the door, arms crossed. "Don't worry about that, Prim. If I know Catnip, she'll be up in no time."

That did little to cheer me up, but I smiled anyway.

"I'll be going now," Gale said, tipping his head towards us. "See you at the Reaping."

I waved to Gale as he left, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Will she still have to go to the Reaping?" I asked.

"Probably, since she doesn't seem like she could die any second."

"What if she gets chosen?" I wondered if, _if _Katniss got chosen. Would they still put her in the Games if that happened? Most likely, with all the top notch technology in the Capitol, they could patch her up in no time.

Katniss had prevented me from putting in any extra tesserae to get some more food for our family, so my name was in only once. At least that was a small reassurance.

I changed into Katniss's first Reaping outfit, a lime green blouse and long skirt. I always put my hair up, in a high ponytail.

"Prim…" I hear Katniss mumble.

"Yes?" I turned to see Katniss rubbing her hand across her eyes. "Prim, you there?"

I went up to my sister's face and smoothed her brown hair. "I'm here, Katniss."

Katniss's eyes slowly opened, and when she saw me she smiled. "Turn around. I want to see your dress."

I knew she was concealing any pain she felt, to make me feel better. So I twirled once.

Katniss kept on smiling. "Pull your blouse in the back," she said, commenting on the back of the blouse that kept getting loose.

I let out a small laugh. "Will you be better, Katniss?"

Katniss just closed her eyes as my mother came towards us.

"Here, I'll help you get ready," she said to Katniss. In her hands was one of the finest blue dresses I have ever seen, no doubt on from my mother's old days. I picked up a comb to brush my hair as I waited when the time for the Reaping came.

The Reaping. The Hunger Games. It was sickening, to think of all those innocent souls that have gone through, and to think it was one of the most popular T.V. shows in the Capitol.

As the youngest were readily lined up in the front, nearest to the stage, I noticed several other scared faces trying to look straight ahead, with no emotion showing. I usually found comfort in my sister being beside me.

My eye wandered around, finding a girl whose hands were occupied with some string. She was making a bracelet, while still absently staring at the stage, where the mayor was giving the usual oration.

I was still busy watching the girl's quick, nimble hand movements, as she stopped suddenly.

"Primrose Everdeen."

I wondered who said my name. Still confused, my eyes rose from the girl's hands.

Every pair of eyes were on me.

_What._ I quickly looked around me, feeling a jolt in my stomach.

"Primrose Everdeen?" the high pitched voice said again.

My blood seemed to run cold. I started to slowly lurch towards the stage. I was going to my death sentence.

"Prim! No!"

I turned around, a few steps from the stage, as Katniss wove her way frantically through the crowd, tripping and stumbling on her bad leg.

"Katniss…" I murmured. Everything was happening too fast.

Katniss lost her footing after she rushed to the front of the crowd. But, her face determined, she got back up and pushed me with her good arm behind her, gasping for breath, sweat trickling down her face.

I could only see how hard it was, for her to run up here, with a wounded leg and arm. I tried to say something, but my lips made no movement.

"I…volunteer…as tribute!" Katniss gasped.

Effie Trinket glanced around nervously the mayor, and eyed my sister. I knew she was looking at her bad leg and arm.

I tried to release myself from Katniss's grasp, but she wouldn't let me. "Stay, back, "she said harshly.

Would they let my sister, with a possible broken leg and hurt arm in The Games? But I had burdened her enough.

"Katniss!" I shouted, just as the crowd began to buzz. The crowd fell silent. "Katniss, you're hurt. Stop this!"

The mayor took charge. "When did you receive those wounds?" he asked coolly.

My mother pushed her way forward. "This morning. She had a bad accident," she said.

The mayor looked over us. Me, a little wisp of a girl. Katniss, strong and defiant.

I wondered if he recognized us – the girls Madge sat with at lunch, the girls whose father had died in a mining accident.

Effie Trinket's eyes were gleaming. She didn't care for us, she cared more that District 12 was probably the talk of the Capitol at the moment; people were most likely betting what was about to happen.

"Under normal circumstances," the mayor announced, "the volunteer tribute will automatically be accepted. But, a wounded volunteer, stepping in for a fresh selected tribute, will not be accepted. In The Games, everyone must be at a healthy start to exhibit full potential."

The mayor had sympathetic eyes, but that didn't stop the Games. "The female tribute of District Twelve is Primrose Everdeen."

I didn't say anything, I just pushed Katniss's protective arms away. What would Katniss do? Accept her fate boldly. At least prove that District Twelve tributes weren't a bunch of scared cats.

I walked up the stage, eliminating any other thoughts, like Katniss would. All that mattered was what I did _now_, not what just happened. Although, I knew, once I got the chance, I would cry until my body ran out of tears.

Even now, trying to act like Katniss, I still looked, to everyone else, like a small flower just waiting to be stepped on.

Author's Notes: Please review? =D


	2. Chapter 2: Heartfelt

Chapter Two: Heartfelt

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.

Effie clapped her hands in excitement. "Wow, it's getting intense! Now for our…boy tribute!" she giggled.

I saw Katniss being supported by my mother, and had to hold back tears. She had a dark look in her eyes, angry at the Games, angry at the Capitol. It was the look I saw most in Gale.

I was glad most of the attention was turned away from me so I could sneak in a few tears, as Effie dramatically put her hand inside the glass ball, caught a flying slip of paper, and flourished it in front of her before reading "Domick Finnegan."

A medium built boy with long brown hair solemnly came up the steps. He walked over and I remembered he was going to be one of my opponents, if I survived the first five minutes of the Games.

I had completely tried to shut out any idea of how long I would last, but seeing this tough, well fed boy who certainly couldn't have been living in the Seam, I realized my clock was already ticking.

It's strange, how long it takes for a thought to be fully comprehended.

Domick stood next to me, rigid and apparently deep in thought, as if trying to figure out something.

We stood there, like statues, as the mayor starts reading the Treaty of Treason after a small cough. Before I knew, it tears were dampening my face, no matter how many times I tried to shake my head. I apparently underestimated how hard it was to know life was only a certain amount of time before it ended.

Then another underestimation: in my haste to try and block out any deterring thoughts, I had also failed to fully think about District Twelve's huge population. And all of those eyes were sizing us up, pitying us, or just not caring anymore. But they were still eyes.

It was like a chain reaction; After tears were starting to drip faster and fast onto my outfit, I started sniffling uncontrollably, embarrassment flooded through me and my heart raced, leaving my forehead flaming hot.

Then it just seemed to get worse. Just as the mayor paused after a long sentence, I let out a loud sniff.

Domick turned his head to me, his brown eyes looking down at me. I expected another pity stare, but instead his eyes seemed to say, "Look at me. Concentrate on me, not everyone else."

I did, I stared back, focusing on every detail I could find, even counting the number of freckles. Something about him seemed familiar to me. It was definitely something about the nose and face frame.

It worked. I was easily preoccupied, Katniss knew that best. If she had brought home a squirrel she shot, I would start crying for it, but then she'd show me a wreath of flowers she gathered, and I'd cheer up.

When Domick smiled, I was startled to find I actually stopped crying and my heart was slowing down. It had worked! A new sensation flowed through me, and the corners of my lips slowly upturned. "Thank you," I mouthed.

_Stop feeling grateful_, a voice inside me whispered. _It's only going to make it harder once he dies._

"If I don't die first," I whispered, my lips barely making a sound.

The mayor turned to us after finishing his speech.

As previous years, I expected to shake hands, but Domick not only shakes my hand; he gives me a light, reassuring hug. I felt safe, like when I was with Katniss.

How odd this must look to the audience, like we already knew each other.

--

A circle of Peacekeepers surrounded us and roughly guided us to two separate rooms. The Peacekeepers closed the door to my room and left. I didn't have any idea what to do, and was about to go back outside when suddenly my mother burst into the room from the other side and picked me up in a tight hug. I could feel her wet cheek on my shoulder, and hugged back, feeling the same safe feeling.

Katniss came in, her eyes hard and jaws tightly clenched. She looked as though she was really trying hard not to cry herself, but put all her unsaid, locked away emotion into her embrace.

I needed to sit down, but expecting something to happen any second, I kept on holding tighter and tighter.

Then Gale came in too. He waited until I finally loosened myself and was once again crushed in his strong arms as he lifted me up. "We're all going to be rooting for you," he whispered. Before he could say anymore, the mayor's daughter, Madge unexpectedly showed up at the door.

We all looked at her. Madge's fingers fidgeted a bit behind her back, before looking down and walking towards me. I only recognized her from sitting with her at lunch. She held out a beautiful pin, a mockingjay in the center.

"I…I have to go soon," she said quickly. "You can wear something from your district in the arena. Keep it with you…okay?"

I wasn't sure how to react to the gift. It just sat there, until Katniss picked it up and fastened it onto my dress.

"Do you really believe in me?" I asked. It was such a childish question, I instantly regretted saying any words. This gift seemed more appropriate for Katniss, in my opinion.

I started to cry again, my bangs covering my eyes so I wouldn't have to look back at those faces…those faces I would never see again after today.

Through my tears, I saw Madge smiled and put a hand on my shoulder. "Never stop believing."

--

_Never stop believing, never stop believing._

The words had so much meaning behind it at a time like this, I cried more. I was easily affected by things like these.

My legs felt as if they were old and wobbly as we waited for the train. It didn't take long.

As I stepped on the train, Effie hurriedly escorts me down to a room. I hadn't talked to Domick since the Reaping, and was about to say something when Effie was already instructing me on the room's bells and whistles.

"Wear anything you want, do anything you want, just be on time for dinner in an hour," she said before closing the door.

Once I make sure the door is locked, I launched myself onto the bed and started to scream, smothering the noise with a plush pillow. Right now, I didn't care what else happened. As far as I knew, my life had already been taken from me.

Rubbing my eyes until they grew red and sore, I finally consented to taking a shower. I wasn't exactly sure how hot the water went, but after a few moments I yelped as scalding water poured onto my face. I twisted the shower dial until it was in the middle.

Closing my eyes, and giving them some relief, I opened them back when I realized I was still in my dress. I pulled it off, and decided to ask Effie to clean them and have them be returned back to Katniss along with my last words.

As my hands scale the dress before setting it down, my finger slides over a hard object.

The mockingjay pin.

Looking at the mockingjay in the shower, it reminded me of my father, how one time he sang a beautiful tune, and made the rainiest day look brighter and even pretty.

I was glad the warm water washed over my face. I was tired of tears running down my face.

I wanted to be in the shower forever. Unconsciously, I started twirling in it, pretending I was outside, just spinning around.

A clock by the mirror caught my eye and I turned the water off. I didn't want to be late for dinner. They would think I was crying again.

Because of the late time, I put my still damp hair back up and put on a teal tunic shirt and black leggings. I stared at my reflection. With my hair pulled back, I could actually see the physical similarities between Katniss and me. Our noses, for instance.

But then I thought back to Domick. He looked a little younger than Katniss, but older than me, definitely. Before I could think about it more clearly, I mentally slapped myself for worrying about these things when I was competing in the _Hunger Games_, where I knew I wouldn't be able to survive.

Just thinking about my death made me feel dizzy. I grabbed the edge of the counter. _Calm down. Calm down. What would Katniss do?_

That actually stopped me. What _would _Katniss do? Her emotions would be locked away deep in her soul, and it occurred to me I might not know her as well as I thought.

_Strengths and weaknesses; strengths and weaknesses. _Right. What was I good at?

I mentally slapped myself again and splashed cold water onto my face. I looked at the clock. Seven minutes.

I hooked the pin on my shirt, and imagined a golden mockingjay flying through clear, blue skies.

--

Effie came to pick me up for dinner. I was sitting, stony faced, on the ground by the door, hugging a plush pillow.

She looked a little worried when she saw me, probably because she thought I might not be right in the head. But she shook it off when I manage to pull a smile.

_It's all a show. Make it a show. _Might as well.

I entered a room with sparkling silverware neatly lined up on the table. I sat down in one of the two chairs, as Domick came in a few seconds later.

"Hello, Prim," he said, saying my nickname. Where did he get that from? My memory went back to when Katniss tried to stop me. Probably there.

"Hi, Domick," I try to say, but all that comes out is a few awkward squeaks.

We laughed, and I felt the mood around me lighten up a little; even Effie smiled, thought somewhat tight-lipped.

Domick looked around. "Where's Haymitch?"

"Not that you care much, huh boy," a gruff voice growled. Haymitch Abernathy stalked into the room and sat down opposite of them, next to a disdainfully looking Effie. She daintily picked up a napkin as Haymitch coughed a bit before sitting down.

"Can you believe it," he muttered. "Third bottle and I'm still here!"

I didn't say anything, because I was intimidated by Haymitch, a winner of the Hunger Games. He looked totally incapable of teaching anything.

"So…you're our mentor?" I asked, still squeaking on some letters. I gritted my teeth. I had to make a plan, I had to try my best. Or at least put on a good show, for Katniss, Gale, my mother, and maybe Madge.

They would be watching the whole thing live, and I knew they would stay up most nights, fearing for my safety. There I was again. A burden, even in a place no one could help me.

"Of course I'm not!" Haymitch roared. "I just happen to be a winner that – that – " his eyes bulged out.

I flinched. Was he okay? "I – I'm sorry if I…" I murmured, looking back down. So much for my brave attempt.

I expected to see accusing eyes when I looked up, but instead I see Haymitch struggling to contain something. Domick threw a bucket that was going to be used to contain chilled beverages at Haymitch.

"Oh, woops, missed," he said. Haymitch reacted amazingly quick to the bucket. Out of nowhere, he slipped out a knife and slashed the bucket right through the bottom.

"Oh, just throw up already," Domick said, leaning over the table, grabbing the bucket and forcing it under Haymitch's chin. Haymitch did vomit, but soon after he glared at Domick.

"Stop doing things you'll regret later," he snarled.

"Hey…that was advice," I said. Effie, throughout all this, looked thoroughly disgusted, and started picking at the food, trying her best not to look at Haymitch.

Haymitch's eye twitched. "Shut up and eat."

"You shut up," Domick said impulsively, before cutting off his words. He started shoving food in his mouth. He has got to learn to arrest his movements quicker.

Haymitch seemed too drunk and in his own world he didn't reply, at least.

Domick stopped chewing after a few moments, but a guarded look from Effie forced him to swallow.

He gagged. I took a small bite myself, and was nearly overpowered by its rich and savory taste. Remembering proper eating etiquette I wiped my mouth before taking a drink from a glass.

"So, Prim, what do you think is going to be your advantage in the arena?" Domick asked, evidently trying to make small talk.

I was about to answer when I looked into eyes and was somehow reminded of Katniss, always wary.

Could he be playing nice to try and find my weaknesses?

"Um…" I answer, stalling. As if he knew what I was thinking, he said, "You're probably thinking I'm going to use it against you."

He laughed and said, "Well here's my weakness: I got the 'do now, think later' genes."

I smiled weakly. "I got the crying genes."

"Don't say that, you are one of the youngest."

"You don't look sad at all," I commented carefully.

Domick looked away.

Effie apparently noticed our eating matters and said something about it, but Domick as still gazing into space and I was focusing on trying to eat the dullest food there was.

Somewhere during this Haymitch slumped on the table and Effie called for some attendants to take him away.

I felt my heart drop a little, as I was once again reminded I was alone here and everyone was my enemy, even my mentor.

After we finished the rest of our dinner quietly we watched the Reapings of the other districts. I closed my eyes when it came to District Twelve, and shut my ears. Domick still seemed quiet about my remark, so that evening was silent.

In the morning, I woke up, expecting to see the floor of our house and Buttercup, sitting beside me. Instead, the bed was so high I saw the glossy texture of top of the wooden nightstand and also see Effie Trinket standing over me.

"Ah!" I yelped, ducking back under my covers.

"Silly girl," she snapped. I probably scared her a little. "You weren't answering when I knocked, so I came in. Breakfast is in thirty minutes." She left without another word.

I hadn't changed from the outfit I was wearing yesterday, but not in the mood to see myself in the mirror, knowing I'd see puffy red eyes, I ran my fingers through my hair and put it back up.

Down at the breakfast room, varying colors of food is plentiful. I've never been so scared to eat such beautiful assortments of food. I nibble on the extra sweet strawberries, and eat the crusts of the toast. Even the crusts tasted better than the softest bread we got back in District Twelve.

Domick was already eating when I came in. Effie's somewhere far away from Haymitch, who was sitting across from us like last night.

I glared at his playful expression. He seemed to have gotten over his drunkenness. But then, his hand makes a beeline dive for a bottle of yellow liquid. It could only be liquor.

I made a feeble attempt to snatch the bottle away. This might be our only chance to talk to him sober!

"Stop it," I said.

"Stop what?" Haymitch grins. "Stop being sober? Sure, I'll drink to that!" he laughs, rising the bottle to his lips in a toasting gesture before chugging it down.

Domick smirked.

"What's so funny," I said, starting to get irritated. I barely got any sleep last night, my eyes were still fuzzy, my head hurt from the events of yesterday, this new food was making my stomach twist, and my clothes were feeling itchy at the moment.

Haymitch stopped in mid-gulp. He brought the bottle back down on the table.

"Okay, who was the mastermind of this?" he slowly.

I was clueless.

Domick purposefully pretended to try and muffle his laughter, but burst out laughing anyway. I look at Haymitch's expression, the liquid streaming from his mouth, and I started laughing too.

"STOP IT!" he roared.

"Stop what, making the most of our last days?" I giggled. I looked down at my plate, and saw an apple I was eating. Apples. Apple juice. Domick had replaced the bottle of liquor with apple juice.

Haymitch sat there, quiet, until we stopped laughing. "Give me…one good reason why I should mentor you."

I thought back. The answer came simple enough. "I want to win."

The confidence and conviction in my words stunned me.

Domick's eyes darkened. "Same goes for me."

"You want to win? Then stay alive!" Haymitch joked. I forced myself to laugh a bit. Domick followed.

Haymitch stopped laughing suddenly. "You," he barked at me.

"Yes."

"I saw your sister. That determined look in her eye. She's a survivor. Are you?"

I was taken aback. "M-me? No, I'm just a burden."

Haymitch snorted. "I figured as much." He turned to the Domick. "What are you good at, boy?"

Domick smirked before picking up two knifes and flinging them across at Haymitch.

Haymitch used his plate and the hidden knife to deflect them.

"That Career girl will beat you at that," he sneered.

"Not my improvised way," Domick said slyly.

Haymitch raised an eyebrow. "Hn."

He turned back to me. "You must know something. Talk, before I decide to pass over you."

I thought back to my life. I usually just assisted in helping my mother with her patients. I decided to say that, which was better than nothing at all.

"I can heal – I know different berries and plants, I know how to treat most wounds. I'm good in those situations."

"Can you kill?" Haymitch asked, bored.

"N-no," I whispered. "I can't hunt, either. I'll always end up feeling bad for the animals."

Haymitch snorted. "Grow up, sweetheart. It's the Hunger Games. I doubt you'll be caring much about some rabbit's poor skin when you yourself is getting skinned alive."

I shuddered.

Author's Note: I've decided to use the names for the Careers already stated in the book. I'm think they're going to be introduced next chapter, so I'll make a list then.  
Yes, I know how thin Domick's character must look. It's going to grow, trust me.

Please review : )


	3. Chapter 3: Blaze

Chapter Three: Blaze

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.

Author's Note: I already miss the long weekend xP Updating could take a little longer than usual because of all the stuff that's going on. Oh, and I reread the last chapter and noticed a heap of typos! Considering I typed it very late into the night, can I be pardoned, please? –puppy dog eyes–

Haymitch examined our faces. "You, boy, you look at least better fed than the ones I've been getting here the past years. Who are your parents?"

"Florists," Domick answered.

"Explains why. Well, if we work at it, maybe you can pull out of here alive," Haymitch said.

My eye twitched when I realized Haymitch was speaking to Domick specifically.

"What about me?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"I said, if we work at it, we can get him out alive," Haymitch repeated.

"So – so you're saying I won't stand a chance," I said.

"Basically," he shrugged.

"But what if I _don't _cooperate?" I asked, starting to get irritated. I wasn't going to lose my life easily with Katniss and my mother watching, just for Domick, a person I barely had a whole conversation with, could win.

"If you're lucky, maybe you can survive the first day," Haymitch said. He looked me over. "Maybe you did get something from your sister. And, who knows, you might be able to pull off a couple sponsors, once your prep team takes over for the first part."

I looked at Haymitch curiously. He was an eccentric person, alright. But did what he say mean he would help us?

Moments of silence passed while we chewed and ate quietly.

"You're going to meet your prep team soon. Trust me, they're going to annoy the hell out of you. Don't make them mad." Haymitch got up and left the room.

"So…um. Does that mean he'll mentor us?" I asked timidly.

Domick drained the remaining drops of orange juice from his glass. "I'm more worried about trying not to kill my prep team," he said, not even cracking a smile.

I blinked. If Domick meant what he said, that meant he would be able to inflict injury without thinking twice.

_But what can I do?_

--

What I guessed was my prep team shrieked when they saw me at the Remake Center. I was still getting used to all these tall, magnificent buildings with all its glassy windows when they rushed up to me,

"Oh my gosh, your hair!" a lady with bright, blue hair exclaimed.

I instinctively put my hand up to my ponytail and pulled it out, twisting to the side to check it.

"What?" I asked, wondering if something had caught in it.

"No, no, it's blonde!" she said happily. "We haven't had someone with blonde hair since forever! Blonde hair looks so nice on so many outfits, and I can already think of a _dozen_ dresses to go with your –"

"Now, now, Venia," a woman with unnaturally pale green skin began. "Don't leave us out of the fun, too!"

"Okay, first, we're going to have to strip your leg hair," a man with a thick coat of purple lipstick said. "I'm Flavius, by the way, and that was Octavia."

Haymitch wasn't kidding when my prep team got to work on me. Every time a waxy strip was yanked from me skin I felt like bolting out of the chair; but as they always say, 'no pain, no gain'.

They scanned over my body as they made me stand up from me chair, completely naked.

It was hard not to imagine my prep team as a group of clowns, their appearances so heavily made up and altered. I smiled a bit at this.

They gave me a brief shower, rubbed my already stinging skin clean and slathered thick lotion over me, which was supposed to soothe my skin, I supposed. Then they went over every inch of my body, making sure it looked 'presentable' to them - which was unbelievably clean to me.

"Oh, you poor thing. You looked like you were left in a dump when you came here, but you look much better now," Octavia encouraged.

"When Cinna is done with you, you'll look – actually, you'll see soon. Let's call Cinna!" Flavius chirped.

The trio disappeared from the room and I was left standing there, starting to shiver a little.

Then who I assumed must be Cinna comes out of the door. Cinna looked rather normal, not so heavily incorporated in the Capitol fashions, and when he walked in, he felt like someone I could trust.

"Welcome, Primrose…or Prim?" he greeted.

"You can call me Prim…is this your first time here?" I questioned.

Cinna chuckled. "Yes, it is. How did you know?"

"Most stylists I see on T.V. are more…um, sophisticated, I guess?" I resisted a groan. What a way to talk to my new friend!

Cinna grinned, and noticed that I had the impulse to shake every few moments and fidget around.

"Sorry, it's a bit cool in here, isn't it? Let me just look you over and we'll talk about the opening ceremonies."

I closed my eyes as I was being scanned over by a careful eye. Cinna's voice made me open them again.

"Perfect. You can put your robe on, and follow me, if you please."

I gratefully slipped the robe on, feeling the soft fur against my skin, and followed Cinna into another room. The room wasn't big, but it wasn't small either. There were more glass winows and a couple couches.

He gestured to a couch and pressed a button on the table next to it, and food arranged neatly on two plates rose up.

The chicken, which I presume was our lunch, was sprinkled with sesame and covered in a creamy, appetizing sauce. Under it was a bed of wild rice, and several little delicate…rice cakes? Or was it bread? But several different colored food cut into small flowers surrounded the mound of food. There was a small side serving of potatoes with gravy. The vegetables seemed very…green and succulent, lightly steamed; then to top it all off, a little cup of pudding – already prepared with a small spoon inside – and a small plate of sweet, sugary tarts.

Even the food seemed too overly done. Even with the best of the food from District Twelve, it would be a measley meal compared to this high fare. What if I had been born in the Capitol, with no other worries than the very next day? What if I could have all the food I wanted with the click of a button? Everything else I wanted with another couple clicks of a button?

It was like I had stepped from my former, uncivilized world into another.

Cinna snapped his fingers in front of me, disrupting my musings. "Earth to Prim. Lunch is served."

It was all so pretty I didn't want to ruin its perfection. It was just like on the train.

Cinna interrupted my thoughts again by saying, "So, about the opening ceremonies."

I looked up, thinking about past costumes. They weren't horrible, I guess, but they never stood a chance against the much more wealthier upper class districts.

"Of course, you should know, the costume has to relate to your district. Portia and I – Domick's stylist – want this year's tributes to stand out. So we thought of something a little more unique than any of District Twelve's past costumes."

"What is it?" I asked, intrigued.

Cinna paused. "Do you like fire, Prim?"

I blinked. "It depends. A warm and cozy fire, yes. An uncontrolled, raging fire, not so much."

"Then this will be perfect for you. A fire can be small and warm. That's you, Prim. And in other times, the fire can be fierce and unwavering," said Cinna.

I rather liked that idea. Fierce and unwavering. Ah, if only that could be true.

"But, wait," I said, still confused. "I don't get where you're going."

"Forget about coal mining," said Cinna. "Think about what else comes out of coal. Or more particularly, what kind of energy."

"Hmm," I murmured. "You mine it, and you burn it to make…burn. You're burning coal." My eyes widened. "You're not dumping coal dust on me and lighting me on fire, are you?"

Cinna let out a laugh. "You got it. Well, not the coal dust and lighting you on fire, much. It's just a little fake fire; it won't feel close to the real thing."

Then he left off answering any more questions and we finish our lunch. Then, as I was being fitted with my ceremonial costume, my stomach couldn't help but feel a little awkward. I wished I didn't eat the whole lunch now.

I trusted Cinna enough not to roast me in front of the Capitol to light the cape anyway. But first I had to stand still for what seemed like hours, while he focused on how to set my hair, so he could adjust the makeup and lighting on my face and work his way down.

"Do you prefer it up or down?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I've been keeping it up a lot since I got here, but at home it's usually down."

"Up it is. We're going to show everyone a whole new 'you'. Away from the delicacy, on with the fierceness. You're the girl on fire. Literally. Got it?"

"Um…" I was taken aback with the sudden enthusiasm.

Cinna put my hair in a high ponytail, which left me feeling more vulnerable. I wanted to just let it loose by my face.

"That way it can flow out behind you when you're on the chariot," he said. Then he attached the headpiece to my head, with was a headband with the same black material and fluttering streams of bright, fiery colors.

Then he brushed a bit of gold above my eyes and some red and orange makeup, for the finishing touches. I couldn't wait to see myself completely redesigned in the mirror.

My prep team started fixing other areas of my costume after Cinna was satisfied with my face, chattering and bubbling with excitement all the while.

The unitard was starting to feel hot and sweaty, after standing still for such a long time. I couldn' t wait to get out into the cool, night air. "There!" my prep team sighed in admiration. "This could be the best ceremonies costume yet," they exclaimed.

Then Domick comes in. Also dressed in the black uniform and cape, I laughed when I saw him, finding someone else to share what I was going through.

"What's so funny?" he said good naturedly.

I just snickered even more. He just looked so _different_. And before we know it the giant doors open and a horde of applause greets the first chariot to ride through. District One.

I gasped. "They look so pretty!" I exclaimed. They were. Making luxuries for the capitol, they looked like treasures. Jewels and sparkling outifts; all attention was turned towards them. They were definitely one of the crowd favorites.

Domick snorted. "Would you rather have pretty or majorly awesome?"

I started chuckling again. "Being majorly awesome won't get us many sponsors. Who wants stuck up arrogant tributes anyway?"

Domick started to reply back, but Cinna cut us off. "Alright, ready, tributes on fire? The crowd is going to love you. A show they want, a show they're going to get."

He held out a lighter in his hands, clicked it, and held to close to my cape. Quite a pleasant sensation crept up my cape and the synthetic flames lit up my headpiece.

Then our chariot started moving. Cinna hopped off and gave us a wide smile and thumbs up. "Don't be afraid to overdo it!"

There wasn't much room on the chariot; just enough to stand and maybe move around a little. The rest was just decorations.

The two black horses harnessed to our chariot obediently paced to the doors.

As the chariot started rumbling out the door, I could feel the wind blow the licking flames back, and when I looked at Domick I realized we really were on fire. And the whole world would see us, our fiery blaze.

--

I was so excited and eager to show off my flames I was totally ready and pumped up to wave enthusiastically to the crowds.

When our chariot entered the huge square, I was momentarily surprised by the sheer number of people crowding around the ring, took a step back and a deep breath.

When the frenzied crowd saw us, they were also momentarily stunned, by the flames that flickered in the darkening evening.

Adrenaline running through me, I giggled and jumped a little, waving to every colorful cheering face I could find. _Don't be afraid to overdo it_. I took those words to my heart.

The crowds seemed to ripple towards us, and if they could get closer, they would. Their roar was deafening.

"_District Twelve! District Twelve!" _

Then one of them found me - the jumping girl on fire - in the pamphlet and started to chant mine and Domick's name.

The slight wind blew the flames to the right, and I found out if I moved quickly enough the flames would leave a small trail. I twirled around, laughing all the while. Then I started blowing kisses and curtsying, actually having _fun._

Domick laughed and held my hand above me while I twirled so I wouldn't lose balance. In a way, he reminded me of Gale, strong, brotherly and supportive.

When all the chariots stopped in front of President Snow's mansion, I hardly noticed and kept smiling and waving at the cheering crowds before I quickly lowered my hand at hearing the crowd hush.

I could hardly contain myself as the president gave a short speech. I spied on myself on one of the big wide screen T.V.s they put up, marveling at what Cinna had been able to create. _Cinna, thank you so much,_ I thought.

The anthem played, and I could just see all of the Capitol, watching the two tributes on fire, as we glowed and were marched to the Training Center. The crowd's screams began again, my energy had diminished and I stopped jumping and dancing around.

When the doors closed, our prep teams are another crowd altogether, cheering, clapping and shouting praise. I caught some other tributes looking angrily at us, and I knew that were really did shine out there – a lone fire.

Author's Note: Hope you guys have a good week ;) Until next time!


	4. Chapter 4: Agenda

Chapter Four: Agenda

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.

Author's Note: Training's going to be cut into two pieces. For those of you who havent' read the original version of this, I'm just making the chapters a tad shorter because I'm reformatting my writing and taking/editing out some paragraphs. ;) Doesn't detract from the story, though!

As I eagerly stripped out off the tight fitting clothes and fancy costume, I noticed Effie's pink wig by the door. I changed into the complimentary clothes Cinna had given me, and opened the door.

"Oh, hello, Primrose!" Effie, for some reason, had insisted on calling me by "Primrose" and not "Prim".

"Oh, Primrose is such a classy name," Effie protested when I insisted she call me Prim.

Effie guided me out of the room and into the main part of the Training Center, to the glass elevator that had amazed me from the start. She was babbling on about something to do with sponsors and whatnot.

"Some sponsors like your cheerfulness and I've been trying to interest some more. How you bravely prevented your wounded sister from taking your place! Facing your future with bold eyes! If you interview goes well enough, they'll simply love you!"

It's clear that Effie had been exaggerating some parts. I was not bold and brave. But my stunning show, thanks to Cinna's help, had probably made me stand out from the norm.

I wasn't aware of where we were going, but when we stopped in front of the big glass elevator that had amazed me from the start, I asked, "Where are we going?"

"To District Twelve's level of the Training Center of course. Each district has it's own floor in the Training Center." She lead me to a room that she said was where I would stay at until the Games.

"I'm sure you'll find it much more comfortable than the train. I'll call you when it's dinner! Ta-ta!" Effie bobbed her head a bit then hurried back down the hallway.

My first priority was to take a nice warm shower and get the musty smell of the costumes off me.

I stepped into the shower which automatically turned on. I just stood there for a while, before opening my eyes and gazing at the panel of numerous buttons. Experimenting, I pressed a couple of buttons.

Some kind of thick, cleansing oil oozed from some container at the top of the shower, then swirling jets of scalding water traveled up my body, washing off any traces of oil as quickly as it began.

_Whoa._ I started pressing all the buttons, and then came the real fun. It was like a factory, with all the different machines moving about. First came banana shampoo piling on top of my head, then came soap bubbles spraying out of the side wall, and a pleasant little rainstorm from the ceiling of the shower washed it all off.

I laughed at how quickly my bath was over. I had literally shampooed my hair and taken a bubble bath in less than five minutes. I wish Katniss was here to see this.

By the time I was done with all the buttons my hair was a mixed smell of fruit, my skin smelled strongly of different oils and soaps, and my fingers felt wrinkly from being in water so long.

Squeezing the water out of my hair as I stepped out of the shower, something in the shower mat activated and hot air was blown around me, drying my body in a matter of seconds.

_Now that is high-tech_. At home, a bath, even just a simple one, would take what seemed like hours to heat up the water and pour it into a basin. Here, I stepped in, pressed a few buttons, and voila, bath done. Step out, and voila, body dry.

A fast air cutting current ran through my hair for me. It was unreal. Just a few swipes of hot air and my hair became shining, dry and straight.

Then I explored the room. The closet was huge, it was actually a room by itself. But instead of going in a manually checking out the clothes, there was a touch screen in the front with the wardrobe right on the screen. I could see every single outfit, where it was, and what accessories went with it.

Yes, I was having the time of my life here. Whereas if Katniss was here, she would simply pick out the simplest outfit there was and be done with it. Not me.

I surveyed each and every outfit I liked to my satisfaction. They were all way above what I expected; most were too crazy and in the Capitol trends for me to even think about.

In the end, after standing at the touch screen for an hour, I chose an unbelievably simple outfit: Long sleeved purple plaid shirt with dark magenta skirt and black leggings, and a purple headband with a small bow.

_Benefit of being in the Games_, I thought.

The Games. The very thought of the real thing deadened me. I tinkered with the other things the room absently until Effie came and called me down to dinner.

Everyone was at the balcony when we arrived. Haymitch actually looked decent for a change – and I hoped it meant he would be willing to help us.

"I see you took advantage of what the Training Center has to offer," Cinna said. I met Portia, and after we shook hands, we were seated at a table by completely quiet waiters and waitresses.

The food was, as always, just astonishing. I think it's even better than what I've already had at the Capitol, actually. Maybe it's just the mood. Nothing to hold our spirits down. The adults were laughing and getting along well with each other. Effie and Haymitch actually were friendly to one another.

After dinner everyone crossed over to another room to watch the replay of the opening ceremonies. When our turn came and everyone saw me jumping and waving like an idiot, they all started to laugh.

"The Games can't dampen your spirit, that's for sure," Haymitch says.

A compliment. I'm pleasantly surprised.

"So what's our agenda for tomorrow?" Domick asked.

"Training begins tomorrow, pronto. Now that I know I don't have to deal with a couple of sullen tributes, I might actually make an effort."

The way Haymitch looked at me, I knew I wasn't going to survive the first day, but in any case I would have to use that to give an advantage to Domick…somehow.

"Hey, Prim," Domick whispered as we left the room to head to bed. "Want to see the rooftop? It's amazing."

I nodded and followed curiously.

We walked onto the roof of the Training Center. The view was breathtaking and I held out my arms, imagining I was a bird that was about to take flight. Bird. Mockingjay. My thoughts traveled back to the pin Madge had given me as my District token.

Something whipped the air out of me as I was lifted high above.

"H-hey!" I shouted.

Domick grinned from beneath me. "It's dangerous to fly without wings."

I laughed and wriggled until he finally let me down.

"Speaking of dangerous…what happens if we fall?" I wondered.

"Try it. Haymitch told me about it. It's actually pretty neat."

I snuck a suspicious glance and reached out my hand but pulled it away quickly.

"Did you feel it?" said Domick.

"No, I'm afraid what's going to happen."

"Silly, it's not going to maim you." Domick grabbed my hand and pushed it towards the edge of the railing.

Something jolted up my hand, and I realized the feeling of electricity.

"Electricity? But, does electricity travel through wires?" I said.

"It's some kind of force field. Isn't it cool?"

I nodded. "Brr, come on. Let's go back inside," I said. "I can feel wind picking up."

After getting back into my room, I went to change for bed. It had been an exhausting day.

Changing into light clothes for sleeping, I slipped under the soft blankets and sunk right into the mattress. Tomorrow the next step to the Hunger Games would begin. This was important.

I knew I was good at telling plants apart, and dealing with wounds. How would that help me? I fell asleep thinking about different scenarios in the arena.

When I woke up, I found an already prearranged outfit sitting on the bench by the bed. The clothes were light and easy to move around in. Made sense.

After lounging around in the shower for a while, I came back out and changed into the shirt, pants and shoes, and tied my hair up. I looked in the mirror. It was me, of course, but I looked different. Was it the Capitol's style rubbing off me? I hoped not.

Maybe, it was, as Cinna had put it, 'the new Prim'.

I walked myself down to the breakfast room, where I guessed it was self serve. The silent waiter gestured silently to the rows of breakfast food and went over to stand by the door.

I wondered why the servers never seemed to talk.

After setting a bowl of fruit down and some light pastries, Domick and Haymitch entered through the door. They both grinned at the rows of appealing food, and quickly get to work piling up on their plate.

"I'm starving," Domick states, before plunging in to a sweet pastry.

"Stop," I said. "You're going to make yourself sick from all those sweets before our training starts. We're used to bland food from our district, not this super sweet stuff."

Domick remembered this at the last second and spit his pastry back out, choking repulsively on the extra sugary food.

"Told you."

Haymitch rolled his eyes as he sat down. "Okay, we need to get to work now. Tell me your strengths and weaknesses."

"Didn't you already ask us that? On the train?" I said.

"Oh, yeah. But that was just an overall view. We're going to go in detail."

"Well, I can't do much except tell plants apart, and healing wounds," I shrugged in a matter-of-factly way.

"Are you sure? No knots, knives, slingshots, mallets, anything?" Haymitch said.

"Katniss never really let me near those. She did try to take me hunting one time…but I just don't have the nerve to kill something."

Haymitch rubbed his chin. "That could be a problem."

Yes, it already was.

"Well, you can test your skills when the real training begins. There will be different stations, and you should try and brush up on some areas. It could come in handy," Haymitch added. He turned to Domick.

"From what I've already seen, you claim to be good with knives."

"Knots, too," Domick answered. "And I'm not just knife throwing, it's something else I made up. But I sort of want to keep it secret."

"Show-off," I muttered.

"Anything else?" Haymitch promptly continued.

"Plants. I'm good with plants too, having grown up with the florists…"

Ugh. So much for my 'talent', which I thought could've actually been unique.

Author's Note: Pay attention to the last part, it comes back later in the story. I've got a new motto too:

Smack that review button.


	5. Chapter 5: Training

Chapter Five: Training

Below ground at the gymnasium, Atala, the woman who appeared to be in charge there, began talking about the different stations and rules. I snuck glances at the other tributes.

They were definitely much more prepared than I was.

Intimidated by their very presence, even after Atala released us, I just stood there.

Domick nodded, gave me a smile, and headed off to another station to work on knife throwing. I watched him for a little bit. The Careers…I've heard about them from T.V. Having trained their whole life just for this.

Of course, the Career girl at the knife station seemed to be showing off her skills, without worrying about anything. The way she threw her knives at any position… it would take at least ten years to throw with such accuracy and power.

Domick had already shrugged this off, practicing more on throwing from different angles rather than raw power itself. Whatever he was doing, it was like some kind of routine.

I wanted to push him and warn him the Career girl had stopped her training and was watching his movements closely, as if trying to memorize how he was going to attack.

_Idiot! She's going to use that against you!_

I felt a small tap on my shoulder. It was a small girl, with dark skin and soulful brown eyes. She had to be the same age as me.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Prim."

"Rue," she said, smiling a bit. "Do you want to work at the plant station?"

Rue. The name for a plant. Like mine. This made me feel a connection with her. Of course, I know I've already got these plants down and know them like they were my fingers.

But Rue, she's good too. No, she's brilliant. Her quick nimble fingers quickly sort out the plants from normal to edible to poisonous to healing. I was impressed that she knew that much.

"Hey," I said after a while. The trainer at the plant station seemed thoroughly impressed at us, and was beaming. "Want to work on archery?"

This was Katniss's forte. Rue wasn't too bad, she's better than me. Her aim was almost perfect, and after I tried to unsuccessfully shoot at the target, she took out a slingshot and demonstrated such skill behind it I felt like cheering and clapping when she hit every target bulls-eye.

"Wow, you're so good with it," I exclaimed. "Race you to the camouflage."

I got a few moments head start before Rue started chasing after me. What surprised me was that I was actually fast at running. Not Career fast, but faster than the average.

At the camouflage section, after getting over painting and getting grime on myself, managed to mold into a tree background. Then I wash off at a mobile shower and try to blend in with tall grass.

Rue sighed softly. "You're good at this," she said.

I looked at her in surprise. "I am? Wow," I laughed weakly. Camouflage was helpful, but I couldn't expect to be tree trunk the whole Games.

The next few days we worked together at each station. Rue excelled at climbing, and on an obstacle course she moved so fast I could hardly keep up with her hand movements.

"You're going to be hard to catch, Rue. I think you could even win the Games," I said.

Rue shook her head. "I'll last, but I'm not strong enough to take out anyone." She looked at me. "We're both good with plants. If only we could trick people into eating poisonous plants…"

"I wish," I sighed.

After two days of training, and my body recovered from momentary aches, began the private sessions with the Gamemakers. I was hoping to score at least above a four. But having a high score also meant you were top on the death list during the Games.

The wait for the tributes were excruciating. District Twelve, being the last district, had to wait through 23 other sessions. I worried this would put us at a disadvantage. No one would be paying attention to us.

Then they called Domick. Left alone in the room, I wondered what Domick's plan was. If he was going to throw knives, he would almost certainly be lower than the Career girl with the knives.

Then my name was called.

Walking in slowly, fear twisting my stomach at the thought of the Gamemakers watching me, I closed the door behind me.

A table with various mixed plants was barely touched; I knew Rue would've used some of it in her session.

I went over to the table. The Gamemakers were barely paying attention. Most of them looked like they were staring into space, there shoulders slumped.

I stood behind the table, so they could see me. Then I quickly moved the plants into two categories: poisonous and healthy. Showing which was which, I picked up a berry and popped it in my mouth, while I piled up the dangerous ones on the left.

A few of the Gamemakers chuckled when I ate the berry. Some Gamemakers awoke from their daydream and looked at me, mildly interested. This was my chance.

I ran over to the camouflage table filled with different paints and leaves, dodging from the Gamemakers view by hiding behind any obstacle I could find. Then I quickly painted myself next to the big artificial tree they put up, climbed into it and hid through its leaves, able to sneak a small bucket of mixed green paint with me.

The Gamemakers thought I was in the leaves of the tree, because I had ruffled it's branches. Nope, I was actually lying on my back in the green field they posed as grass.

I grinned, knowing they would be surprised. Whistling softly, the Gamemakers caught on when they saw my eyes and teeth in the green.

They started to laugh again.

I scraped off the paint with the newspaper covering the table as best I could, and walked back to the center of the room.

The smell of meat wafted to me.

I narrowed my eyes, hoping I had done my act fast enough before the big hunk of meat distracted them.

"Thank you, Primrose Everdeen. You are dismissed," one of them said in a cool voice.

I was sure they thought my performance was so boring they would give me less than a five. Even the laughs couldn't help the fact I was hopeless in battle.

Running through the hall to my room, I quickly stepped into the shower and pressed on the button which caused jets of water to soak me from neck to toe.

After most of the paint had gone down the drain, I stripped my clothes, tossing them to the side and got out of the shower.

I put on a plain gray shirt, black woven jacket, slacks, and, not wanting to be left alone with my thoughts of my score, excuse myself to dinner.

Domick seemed cheerful enough, cracking a smile every few moments as he recalled his session.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"My secret weapon, of course, tied some knots, climbed into the tree, made a noose, some traps, and threw a few knives from the tree into the archery targets across the room," he answered casually.

I gaped. "Well, that was excellent compared to me," I said sullenly.

"Relax, a tribute once won and his training score was a three," Domick said.

"Speaking of which, Prim, what _did_ you do?" Haymitch interrupted.

"I sorted out the plants, cleared the obstacle course, and did some camouflage," I replied. "Oh, and I made them laugh a couple times, too."

"You? Made the Gamemakers laugh?" Haymitch said incredulously. "Well, that would mean they paid at least some decent attention to you, right?"

"I guess," I said, raising my shoulders and lowering them again.

I was quiet the rest of the dinner, only talking when spoken to, and once we gathered in the sitting room to watch our scores, my fingers started to twist each other, and I was clutching them so hard the tip of my fingers turned white.

Rue, it turned out, got an eight. That was sure to make an impression on the Careers, and some sponsors. But she was so small; the Careers probably wouldn't pay much attention to her.

Then it was Domick's turn. Ten.

We all stared at the screen with his picture and score.

"How did you get that, boy?" Haymitch said in surprise.

"Secret," Domick hinted again.

Then my picture showed up. Six.

"It's not that bad," Effie said brightly. "In fact, it's pretty good considering the fact you didn't do anything combative in your session."

"If you did some rock throwing or archery then you might've gotten an eight," Haymitch added.

"But then I would die quicker. I'm happy with my score," I said. The tenseness was lifted, the anxiety of training scores past us, we conversed until Effie told us we were doing some different training tomorrow, and it was guaranteed to be tiring, so we should all get some rest.

"Good night," I said, standing up. Feeling lightened that another hard step of the Games was completed, I turned on the T.V. in my room, just for fun.

Clicking through all the channels, I found an update on the districts. District One a factory was being demolished and a new, more high tech on was being built. District Two, several old houses were being torn down to build new buildings.

The higher districts were mostly getting new buildings, gadgets, and good news, and as the numbers passed District Four, the news deteriorated.

In District Five, some animal disease was going around. District Seven, where they worked on lumber and paper, several old machines were breaking down and couldn't be used. District Eleven, some vermin was going around the crops.

District Twelve, a couple unused coal mines were beginning to be worked on again.

And for District Thirteen, a brief footage of a reporter in a protective suit standing in front of a building, saying something about recent studies showing District Thirteen mines still couldn't be used, but new ways were being formed for that.

I doubt it. As far as the Capitol was concerned, they didn't care about some long gone district. Or the slaying of several, innocent kids in a bloody all-out war.

The other channels were entertainment, a couple history shows, and some news. Apparently there was a big live concert of some famous band in the Capitol tonight. The reality shows differed so much from what _our _reality was I had to laugh at the foolishness of some scenes.

Going long into the night, I forgot about the time until the late night news ended, and I quickly turned off the television and lights and ducked under the covers.

Author's Note: The next chapter is about the interview, so in a couple chapters the real action starts! Take care, and until next time!

Smack that review button.


	6. Chapter 6: Anxiety

Chapter Five: Anxiety

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.

Anxiety. It pulls you down like a heavy anchor. It doesn't help my interview is at the very end of everyone else's, either.

During breakfast, Effie mapped out the plan for today. I would have the first session with Effie, on proper stage etiquette, while Domick worked on his façade and stage face with Haymitch.

"Wait…I have to spend four hours learning how to walk in a dress?" I said incredulously.

"Yes," Effie snapped. "Fancy clothes aren't all fun and games! There's the proper way to walk, sit, talk, and amongst all that you have to know when to laugh or move at the right spots!"

Wow. She made interviews sound so complicated.

After a short breakfast (Effie egging on me to hurry), I followed her to a spare room with glossy wood floors. It looked like a dance room.

"Alright, stand in front of the mirror while I try and pick out a dress that fits you," Effie said. She held numerous gowns in front of me, by me, taking mental notes with a professional eye.

"Okay. Put this on," she ordered, handing me a yellow, swishy dress. The dress wasn't heavy, I supposed, but it came with a ruffled hem and ribbons hanging off, so I had to try hard to not step on them and trip.

"This isn't going to be the dress I'm wearing for the interview, right?" I asked, just to be sure.

"Of course not. It's just a practice dress, in case you get one just like it."

After discussing how to sit, and hold up the dress when walking briskly, Effie made me put on high heels. When I say high, I mean high. The shoes don't even fit me. They're much too large.

"What happens if I lose my footing on high heels?" I said nervously.

"You won't, if you keep practicing," Effie said earnestly. She seemed pleased I was genuinely concerned with how I presented myself.

"Good, good. Don't forget when you're sitting, hands in your lap, and when you walk, the dress is at ankle length," she said.

Then we practice smiling, the appropriate time to add a comment, and laugh. I was good at this part.

By the end of our session, my feet started aching again and I was already exhausted. I was glad I got to sit during my session with Haymitch.

Effie let me throw off the dress while she got ready for Domick. "If you remember everything I told you, you're going to be great," she said.

Domick and I passed by each other as we switched rooms.

"How was Effie?" he asked grimly.

"Terrible. She'll make you practice 'till your feet are dead," I said. It probably wasn't as hard for boys then girls, as girls had higher expectations.

I entered Haymitch's room. He already looked tired; I could bet on his temper not being exactly top notch.

"Good, you're here. I've already got a plan for you, if you don't mind," Haymitch said as soon as I sank gratefully into the soft chair in front of him.

"Go on," I said.

"One word: Be yourself."

"That was two," I snickered.

Haymitch rolled his eyes at me. "Whatever. But you've already shown your personality to the Capitol, at the opening ceremonies, and to the Gamemakers. It'll be a cinch."

"Any nervous pills I can take?"

"I prefer to have you awake than to be stumbling around on national television."

"Like you?" I asked.

Haymitch growled good naturedly. ""Watch it, sweetheart. Let's pretend we're at the interview, and you've just walked onstage."

"But there's no real audience."

"I just want to see how well you answer questions."

I nodded. Haymitch cleared his throat and began, "So, Prim, you've made it this far. You're going into the arena tomorrow. How are you feeling?"

"Great, at the moment."

Haymitch scratched his head, and said, "Okay, cut for a second. This won't work. You're acting too confident. Act like yourself, the humble, bubbly girl on the chariot."

"I am acting like myself!" I countered. "I just need…an audience!"

Haymitch snorted. "So you're actually asking for thousands of people to stare at you?"

Before I could answer, he said, "Okay, moving on. That's not the point. Prim, tell us about District Twelve, like your family."

"Wait – wait," I said quickly. "I just can't answer it now – not in this atmosphere."

"You're serious?" Haymitch started laughing. I didn't get him. I was just telling the truth.

He muffled his laughter, and after some time and glaring from me, he stopped. "Okay, then. Any thoughts about your time here at the Capitol? Answer it anyway you like."

I instantly said, "I'm not too pleased with my weirdo mentor, but otherwise everything is amazing here, and from the instant I saw it I knew I was going to have the time of my life here. Everyone is so enthusiastic you can't help but enjoy yourself."

Haymitch breezed over the fact I just insulted him and instead said, "Great. You'll be fine, just keep the 'charming' personality, okay? No aggressiveness. Remember, you've just got picked for the Games, you're in the youngest age group, you're innocent, naïve, and have no idea what's in store but you're accepting –"

"I _know_," I said. "Remember? Natural."

I didn't want to think anymore about the upcoming interview, so I made a point on that and we moved on to the arena…not much better.

"…you're going to want to run away from Cornucopia after the sixty seconds is up. You're no match for the Careers, so while the Careers are fighting over whatnot, find water. It's the most important thing. Got it?"

"What if there is no water? It could be a desert," I said.

"There has to be. It won't be much of a show if everyone dies in a few days," Haymitch reasoned.

I could tell Haymitch wasn't planning on putting every effort in to help me survive.

"I know I'm not going to survive; it's practically impossible. Aren't you going to ask me to team up with Domick or something and make sure he's safe?" I asked shrewdly.

Haymitch's face was unreadable as he said, "…the way you say it, sounds cruel of me to do so. If you get a handful of good sponsors, it could work. But it's your choice; I can't make you sacrifice your life."

After a couple more hours of debating, we decided to end our session early and I almost immediately collapsed onto the bed. It's so strange, how when you want to fall asleep, you lay awake for hours, but when you don't want to, you fall asleep immediately.

That's what happened to me. After curling up on the pillows, I fell asleep quickly, and when I woke up I was grouchy because I realized I missed dinner.

Picking up the phone, I tentatively ordered some food. In less than a minute a silent server knocked on the door. After he set down the tray of food, he left.

In the morning I was awakened by the sound of my prep team shuffling around by my door.

While they're transforming me, I asked to no one in particular, "Who are those waiters that never talk? Are they just quiet?"

The trio stopped talking.

"W-what?" I asked, feeling as if I had broken an invisible barrier.

"They're Avoxes," Octavia said, unscrewing the cap off a bottle of nail polish. "I'm guessing you wouldn't know about them. Avoxes are people who are guilty of a severe crime, so they're tongues are cut so they can't talk. Serves them right."

"T-they're tongues? Cut?" I squeaked.

"It's what they deserve for committing whatever crime they did. Oh, Prim, you're looking wonderful!" Flavius exclaimed. Then he started to rake my silky hair upward, leaving it in an uncomfortable high ponytail.

"Ugh," I said. I was about to ask them to lower my hair, but then I remembered my prep team was only doing what Cinna told them to, and I would survive it.

Venia finished applying layers of gloss over my painted fingernails, and got to work with Octavia on reinventing my face.

They started chatting about the concert I had heard about on the television. I couldn't talk, seeing as Venia and Octavia were centimeters by my face, and outlining both of my eyes and rubbing something on my cheeks.

By the time they were done with my face, I hadn't noticed Flavius sprinkling golden, sparkly dust over me.

"Can I see myself in the mirror?" I asked.

"Not yet, we're waiting on Cinna with the dress!" Venia giggled.

As if on cue, Cinna entered the room with my dress, but it was covered with a huge white blanket so I couldn't see it.

"You're making me wait!" I told him. "Show me the dress!"

"You're going to love it," Cinna grinned. "Close your eyes."

I did close my eyes. I squeezed them tight, like a small child waiting for a special treat.

The dress wasn't long; the hem didn't hang annoyingly by my ankles, so I wouldn't have to hold them up when I walked.

My eyes were still closed as I imagined what creation Cinna had managed to make.

He led me to a certain spot, and when I was assured I could open my eyes, I opened them and just stood there in shock.

I could hear my prep team whispering, "Does she like it? She's not saying anything."

I looked down at myself; I was sure the person I saw in the mirror was someone else.

The dress was like flames had come alive and were captured in this fabulous piece of fabric. The top was a light orange, and as it traveled down, the colors became darker, until the bottom was a dark, fiery red with white, blue and yellow streaks accenting the wrinkles in the dress.

And jewels. Jewels were everywhere. They gathered around my ribcage, jewels of all sorts of colors. The dress was so magnificent I couldn't even explain it right.

"Wait for it…" Cinna said, pulling out golden tiara and attaching it to my hair. The tiara was another thing indeed – more jewels, of course, but the design of the tiara looked like dancing flames.

I wasn't the girl on fire. I was the princess _of_ fire.

The prep team started pestering me to spin around. I did. The way they cheered and screamed themselves silly – I couldn't think of a bigger way to thank my amazing stylist.

"How can I thank you?" I asked, looking at Cinna.

"Don't let my good efforts go to waste," Cinna replied, winking.

"Oh, I won't," I said earnestly.

The next thirty or so minutes I practiced how I was going to walk and talk, while my prep team and Cinna added some finishing touches.

Ten minutes before the entire show starts, I went back to my room and ordered a glass of water, putting on a coat to cover my bare arms.

I was very tempted to just drink the whole thing as quickly as I could, but I remembered Katniss had said something about drinking water moderately was better for you. So I toned down a little.

Then it was time to go. At the elevator, a crowd had already gathered. Domick, his stylist, prep team, Haymitch and Effie were already waiting for me. Domick wasn't in bright orange flames though; his outfit was formal but still held that 'fiery' aura around it - mine was definitely more flashy.

Then nervousness began to take over my body, as we rode the elevator down to ground level and outside to where the stage was. My stomach started twisting and when someone asked me something, my words fumbled around.

We were made to sit out on the side of the stage, unseen by most of the audience from faraway.

I was so overcome by stage fright as the numbers near 12 I was worried I might pass out.

_Katniss will be watching…everyone at home…_

When the stage was finally set and the audience settled, the lights flicker off momentarily, then start flashing different colors on the stage as the show was introduced. Caesar Flickerman, the host of the show, appeared just as the spotlight covers him in bright white light, and the music reached its climax.

He thanked the crowd for joining him in the interviews with the tributes, and sat down on one of the chairs provided. A small table was between him and the tribute's chair.

I hardly noticed the first tribute going up. Glimmer, a girl from District One. She was definitely beautiful, with long golden tresses and flowing dress. Confident and attractive.

Caesar didn't need to exercise his talent much on this one. I could bet on her getting quite a few sponsors.

After nearly an hour, it was District Eleven's turn, the 22nd tribute. Rue.

Rue's outfit was light and airy – she looked like she could take flight any second. It was captivating, watching her literally float her way over to Caesar.

My head, which was already in a daze, was starting to whirl again as I remembered in six minutes it would be my turn for all of Panem to see.

Not noticing Rue's buzzer sound, I kept on twisting my fingers until I finally heard a buzzer sound. Wait...the tribute getting off was Thresh, District 11's tribute. So...then next it would be...

Then I heard my name.

_Doomed_. I wasn't prepared, as I got up and shakily walked my way over.

Caesar shook my hand, I sat down, and tried not to look at the thousands of faces here, or think about the millions of faces at all around the country.

Then silence. I faintly recalled Caesar asking a question.

"S-sorry, I was having a panic attack," I said, smiling almost insanely at him.

Caesar laughed, and the crowd laughed too. "It's normal, should I tell you about a story of when I first went onstage?"

The crowd booed him, urging him to get on with the show.

"Oh, alright, then. Primrose, seeing your face at the opening ceremonies, I can only imagine what you face must have been like when you got your first glimpse at the Capitol from the train? How did you feel?"

_Be yourself._

"Outstanding. Well - no. Actually, I was recovering from all the amazing food I had, so no, I didn't get a glimpse of the Capitol until I stepped outside. But I could feel all the enthusiasm as wel arrived."

The crowd laughed. I wondered if it was a real laugh, or they were just politely laughing. Somehow 'politely' didn't fit in with the Capitol.

"How did you react when your name was called during the Reaping?" Caesar began once the noise died down.

"After I got over who my mentor was? Just great," I said sarcastically.

Caesar let the crowd's laugh die out again, then said, "And are you and your mentor okay now? I'm guessing so, since you're looking fabulous tonight. Speaking of fabulous, let's talk about your dress!"

"What's to say?" I exclaimed. "It speaks for itself! Look!" I stood up and let the camera skim over my dress. The crowd sent out large "oohs" and "ahhs" as my dress was broadcasted on the large screens by the stage.

"Enough of that!" Caesar said as the audience gave a large round of applause to Cinna for my dress.

"What do you think is your greatest strength in the arena?" Caesar asked.

I wasn't sure how to answer this one. "I can heal. It may not sound like much, but that's my talent, along with…other things," I said elusively. Let them think what else I could do. Glancing quickly at the other tributes, I knew they weren't falling for my trick, probably due to my low training score.

But underestimating is something you should never do. Especially in the Games.

"Tell us more about the Reaping. The way you refused to let your sister take your place! Was it a sudden flow of courage you felt?"

Katniss. She ought to know how much she meant to me.

I shook my head. "My sister, she's the fighter here. Not me. For as long as I know, she's always tried to protect me. But she's already done too much. And Katniss, if you're watching," I said, knowing she _would_ be watching, "I love you, and watch me kick butt in the arena."

The words flowed out of my mouth, and when I realized what I had said, I flinched. _I should've said, watch me die painfully,_" I thought.

The buzzer thankfully sounded, and when I got up, I spun around, letting my dress cover me in flames, before prancing off the stage. The crowd went wild when they saw my conclusion to my interview.

It was Domick's turn. As I sat down, I realized that my anxiety had disappeared. My interview was over, but tomorrow began the real thing. It was another feeling: fear.

Author's Notes: Thank you hugely for all your awesome reviews! I was surprised to see you guys say I got Prim's personality right, and it certainly made my day. :)  
When the Careers show up, I'll be using their names/nicknames that are in the book (like Foxface will still be Foxface). The next chapter is the real thing, so stay tuned ;)

Smack that review button.


	7. Chapter 7: Fear

Author's Notes: Sorry this chapter came a bit late; I had to plan out how the next chapters were going to go, but at least we finally get to the action!

Prim: Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no…  
Katniss: Ugh! You made this all my fault! I got my leg injured and now Prim's going to die!  
Me: Who, me?  
Katniss: Yes, you!

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hunger Games, or its characters! I only own Domick :)_

Let the Hunger Games begin!

--

Chapter Six: Fear

Domick's interview finished. He played the elusive angle well, and kept hinting to the audience about something he might've kept in the dark from them.

Caesar literally spent the entire interview trying to catch Domick off guard and know his secret weapon.

When the crowd gave a round of applause for the tributes interview in general, we were instructed to sit and smile as the camera focused on each of our faces in turn.

"We'll be keeping up to date with the Games as they go on, folks, and to the tributes…may the odds _ever_ be in your favor!" Caesar announced, with his Capitol accent showing clearly through every word.

Then the lights dimmed and we marched out of the stage while the audience broke up and the show ended.

After we left the stage, I headed to the elevator. Looking around and seeing no one familiar, I stepped inside and rode up to the District 12 floor. The doors slid open and I was greeted by everyone.

"Well done!" Effie chirped. "Now, let's go celebrate our last night with a fantastic dinner!"

"We'll watch the replays after," Portia added.

The replays. Seeing myself make mistakes all over again…I was going to have to grit my teeth through it.

The dinner started off with a light, steamy seafood soup. Although Effie acted like her overly enthusiastic self and chatted all through it, the mood under her constant chattering was bleak.

The Games started tomorrow.

Haymitch seemed irritable all through it, and resorted back to the sullen state we first met him in.

After dinner, we started to watch the replays. I made mental notes of each district's tributes and who I might be able to ally with. Probably none, maybe Rue. But even Rue, I would slow down.

The Careers, obviously, would group together. I would just have to hope most of them were taken out and I was somehow still together.

Hope. Hope seemed like a big, empty word now. There was nothing to fuel any hope in the arena.

I guessed my best route would be to secretly follow Domick and try to get him to the top players. Maybe then he could win. Then he would be able to go back to District 12, which would be showered with food and gifts.

But what about Rue? I wanted to protect her, too. Rue. I closed my eyes, trying to lock out the loud sounds blasting from the T.V. What was I thinking? I couldn't possible go against people who have trained all their lives, or even kids from other districts.

I wasn't combative, and I never would be.

"Ugh!" I shouted in frustration.

All heads turned to me. I reddened. "Um, sorry. Just thinking of something," I said hastily.

"Look, they're at District 10 now. It's almost us," Domick said.

I blankly watched the television until I saw myself walking up to Caesar and shaking his hand. Then he asked a question, and I was still completely zoned out.

I buried my face in my hands, hoping it wouldn't be as bad as I thought it would.

I heard myself make my silly comment and could just imagine my idiotic smile.

Someone removed my hands and I looked up to see the close-ups on some of the audience members and their tattooed and made up faces. They were laughing.

Then the camera focused back to me, glittery with the faming dress and crown.

I hardly heard my interview go on; I was still staring at shock at how…confident I looked onstage. Either all that makeup did the trick and my blush couldn't be seen or that's was how I was…naturally.

Eh, I don't think so. My interview ended and Domick's name was called. He had pretended to 'accidentally' begin to say something, before immediately covering it up and saying it was secret.

Caesar tried to unsuccessfully yet comically weasel it out of him until he posed one final questions, Domick answered it, and the time was up. The stage darkened and spotlights went everywhere, signifying the end of the show.

The credits rolled, and then Haymitch turned the T.V. off. We all just sat there in silence, with our thoughts before, Effie, naturally piped up, "Well, I'm off to bed Busy day tomorrow, busy day!"

As we got up and stretched, Effie came over to Domick and me. "Dears, Haymitch and I have to be at the Headquarters tomorrow to try and sort out the sponsors and such. Cinna and Portia will escort you all the way to the Games!" she seemed to tear up a bit because she wiped a finger by her eye.

"This will be our last meeting until the end of the Games," she continued, skipping over the fact one, or most likely both of us wouldn't be here when the Games ended. "And this may sound very cliché now, but, may the odds _ever _be in your favor!"

The difference was this time she said those words with heart.

--

I had just gotten out of a nearly two hour bath. I took my time trying out every single Capitol appliance I could use. I no longer cared about anything else that happened. I just wanted to experience as much as I could in my short and ending life.

I tried on every outfit I wished I could wear from my closet. I experiment every button on the shower wall. I spend a ridiculous amount of time watching T.V. I ordered almost every exotic delicacy they had and ate it. I cried. I jumped up and down on the bed in rage. I cried some more.

By the time it became 12 AM, I felt full, a little sick, worn out from crying, and just wanted to fall asleep and forget everything.

But even when I tried to sleep, I couldn't. My stomach kept flipping and turning from the rich and sweet snacks, my eyes were itching and nothing I did would be able to relieve them, and when I did manage to drift off, I was chased by something unknown.

I came to label that unknown as fear.

Fear I would die a horrible, gruesome death. Fear everyone at home would have to suffer because of it. Fear of isolation. Fear of darkness. Fear of…everything. It was overriding my will to keep going.

But as the hours passed, I did finally fall asleep. And I woke up early. I had set the alarm the night before so I wouldn't oversleep. But it was too early.

I fell back into bed, tired, my mind still fuzzy, and disappeared in comfortable darkness again.

Then next thing I heard was ramming on my door. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking away sleep and realizing my eyes were puffy from the night before. My room was a mess. The T.V. was on mute. I was a mess.

The knocking grew louder until I thought the door would burst.

"Come in!" I tried to cry. Instead, a hoarse whisper came out.

But the person must have heard anyway, because the next thing I knew, Haymitch and Domick were standing by my bed.

"You okay, girl on fire?" Domick asked.

"Yeah, I'm feeling excellent," I spat out. "In fact, I'm in such tip top shape I overslept, and I'm just…everywhere. And stop calling me girl on fire, or else I really am going to blow up."

Haymitch said, "Prim, we know you're having a hard time. We just wanted to make sure you're still alive."

Suddenly, an idea popped up in my insane head. "That's a great idea Haymitch. Maybe I should've just died with dignity last night than be dragged into the arena like a dog."

"That's not dieing with dignity," Domick protested. "That's called hiding without dignity."

That made me break apart again. I rubbed my eyes frantically, trying to keep it together, but it just made it worse. Much worse.

Haymitch grabbed my hands and pulled them away from my face. "Listen, girl," he snarled. "You're going in today, no matter what. I'm pushing my time. I was supposed to be there at the Headquarters thirty minutes ago, but I wanted to talk to you before leaving. Obviously, it isn't working out too well."

I sniffled and gulped for air. "Thanks, Haymitch, It's nice to know my mentor actually cares about me."

"Cinna's coming here soon. You might as well get yourself cleaned up. The Games starts soon."

"Soon." I repeated.

"Soon."

Domick squeezed my shoulder reassuringly, and they both left.

I did a quick cleanup of the room, tossing trash in the can and stuffing anything I took out into random drawers, brushed my teeth and hair, and waited for Cinna to come and escort me to whatever place the tributes would be staying at.

He came after I finished throwing all the towels I used in a heap in the bathroom, and led me to the rooftop, where a hovercraft was waiting. We silently boarded, and a lady in a white coat came up after sitting for a few minutes. In her hand was a syringe.

"What is it?" I asked, inching away warily. I was still tired.

"It's your tracker. So we can track where your location is. Stay still, and it'll be over quickly," she responded.

So I did stay still, but I was growing restless from being in this hovercraft, and just as she injected the tracker into me my arm flinched, almost causing me to howl in pain. But instead I bit my tongue and tears welled up in my eyes.

Then soon after, when I was massaging my arm and the lump in where the tracker was inserted, the hovercraft landed and we got out. We were transported to the catacombs under the arena to get ready.

I didn't eat much breakfast, knowing if I ate too much I would throw up later. But keeping hydrated was important, so I made sure I had enough of that.

Then the outfits came. Light green shirt tucked in brown pants with a belt, thin gray jacket and flexible boots.

Then out of nowhere, the mockingjay pin I had forgotten all about appeared in Cinna's hand.

"W-where'd you get that?" I asked, wondering if he had been snooping through my stuff.

"Haymitch found it on one of the tables in your room this morning," he said simply, before attaching it to the front of my jacket.

I twisted about and stretched, making sure the clothes felt alright.

"Okay, just in time. You feeling up to it?" Cinna put his hands on my shoulder, guiding me to the platform which would take me to the arena.

He asked it in the form of a friendly question, but I answered, "No. I'm not feeling ready to die."

"Prim, you have it in you. I know you do."

I wanted to say something back, but just meekly nodded.

When the female voice told us the launch was ready, I looked at Cinna. He nodded at me and said, "We're all rooting for you. Remember that pact we made?"

The words swam around in my head until I remembered.

"_How can I thank you?" I asked, looking at Cinna._

"_Don't let my good efforts go to waste," Cinna replied, winking._

It wasn't much, but it actually meant a great deal to me now, in this situation.

"I won't," I said.

Just as I said that, the platform began to light up. Time to go.

"Water. Remember, when sixty seconds is up, run and find water," Cinna reminded.

A cylinder fell around me and all I could do was lock eyes with Cinna as it rose…

"Ladies and gentleman…" the voice boomed.

"Let the 74th Hunger Games…begin!"

--

Sixty seconds. I tried to count, but my head wasn't straight and I kept messing up. Blood rushed to my head as I was nearing forty seconds. Forty. Fifty. Sixty.

The gong still hadn't sounded. I started counting over again, to try and distract myself from the sights of the arena, and the bloodthirsty eyes of the tributes…

The gong sounded when I reached 23.

At first I was struck frozen. Then I could hear Katniss's, and Haymitch's voice in my head, urging, "Run, run! Run to the forest, leave everything behind! Run, NOW."

I obeyed. However, on the way to the trees, there was a small sack of something. I didn't know what it was, but as I sprinted, I grabbed it and ran.

No one came after me. I saw Domick going for a knife, heard shouts, fighting, but I still kept running, not even when I reached the trees. _Keep going…keep going…find a stream, the lake, find water…_ the voice commanded.

Knowing at least half of the tributes were already dead at Cornucopia, I tried to think of a plan, but one thought raced through my mind: It was real. I was in the Games.

_Be alert! _

I snapped my head back, and decided I had to keep moving, to find water before any other tributes got there and started to fight.

Then cannons went off. Each signified a dead tribute. But from the screams I could tell fighting was still going on as I raced through the forest, thinking, _any second, any second, I will get ambushed. Any second._

Fear made me run faster than I ever had before.

I stopped only to tighten my grip on the sack, and then I heard it…was it real? The sound of water.

I tried to pinpoint where it was coming from, but my mind was spinning too fast to think right. I started panicking, thinking someone was following me.

Then I started to run again, to the left.

_Water…water…water…_

I nearly tripped on a rock as I stumbled into knee deep water. It was a stream.

Gasping for air, I pawed at the muddy water, as if trying to prove it wasn't real.

I started to cup the water in my hands when the voice in my head said, "No! It could be tainted! Don't drink it!"

I glanced around me, knowing fear was still showing plainly in my face. _This is a show,_ I remembered.

I peeked into the pack, and I saw a couple things, but I didn't want to bring them out to examine them closely. I tilted my head and smiled slyly. There. That ought to get the audience going, if they were watching me.

Next, I crawled into a nearby tree; still not fully comprehending I was in the arena.

The leaves and branches scraped me, but I wanted to make sure I was hidden well enough to fully examine the pack and let down my guard.

Inside the small bag was a bottle of iodine, a small matchbox with matches, some rope, a pocketknife, some kind of cap, and some dried pieces of fruit.

The fabric of the bag was odd; then the more I thought about it, it suddenly came to me: it could serve as a water skin. I just had to tighten to top, and use the lid I found to cap it and it could store water.

Then I thought I heard footsteps. Petrified, I dared to only shift my eyes around. Had anyone found this stream yet? They were sure to go downstream, as that would probably lead them to the lake.

More cannons had been shot off during the time I stayed put. I knew, the Careers would most likely be done at Cornucopia and making their way through the forest. I quickly jump down the tree, dump out the items from the skin and stuff them in any pockets I had on the clothes on my back.

I filled the water skin, and put in a few drops of the iodine. Then I screwed the cap on, and splashed mud on my clothes, and some on my face, and slathered it in my blonde hair. I used the elastic around my wrist to pull my hair up, so the wind wouldn't blow it in my eyes.

After making sure I am as camouflaged as I could get, I hoisted my water skin up on my shoulder, begin to move swiftly through the trees, away from the stream. Too risky of Careers coming.

Then as the hours passed and I stopped moving to think, I knew I was going to be in trouble. I had no food. The night was guaranteed to not be a warm night. And Careers hunted at night.

My heart still hasn't stopped beating fast, and I know I couldn't give myself a sense of security now. I needed to find shelter. I took two gulps of water, and chewed on some fruit while I hid by the base of a tree.

The trees here were too weak and thin for me to climb. The bushes around me could prove to be an advantage to the other tributes. I had to keep moving.

I paused slightly every few seconds to hear if anyone was nearby. Then, just as I stopped, I thought I heard someone stop, too.

I narrowed my eyes, swallowed my fear, and look around.

No one there. But I was sure there was someone.

Then, the noise started again. Yes, it was human.

With no weapons to protect myself, or even to show I was a threat, I could only huddle next to a tree and wait.

A scared looking girl stepped from behind a tree. She hadn't seen me.

_She's probably more scared of me than I am of her,_ I thought. I was thinking of befriending her – no, something inside me told me I shouldn't. Someone had to already be following this girl.

I picked up a rock and threw it at a tree. The sound made the girl jump and scared nearly out of her wits. She didn't look like she had anything on her.

I ran while she was still trembling from the rock, and found a somewhat formidable tree that I could bundle myself in.

Night was setting in quickly, and I needed to regroup my thoughts.

The tree didn't offer me much cover. I knew I could easily be killed in my sleep. Then I had an idea. I took out the rope from the sack, and felt it to estimate how long it was. Then, using what I learned about knots, tied myself to the tree trunk, so I could move around the tree if I heard something, and not worry about falling.

The only thing bad was I couldn't escape quickly.

I held the pocketknife in my hand readily at all times, even when I ate the rest of the dried fruit and drank. I shook the water skin. Not much water left.

Then I realized I was cold. Another cannon fired, and I heard the anthem play in the distance. I watched the sky absently for Rue and Domick. No. They're safe.

Then I wondered about District Twelve, and Katniss and my mother. How were they getting on, watching my first day in the arena?

Even though I felt like crying, no tears came to my eyes. My emotions and thoughts were still mixed up.

I tried to clear my head, and plan what to do tomorrow. That kept me from thinking about the cold. Before I could stop it, I fell asleep.

--

When I woke up, my arm was hanging off the branch, my cheek rubbing against the rough bark. My head rose sleepily. Where was I?

The Games. The Games. The Games!

I literally shot up from my position when I remembered I was in the Games again.

The forest was bright that morning, but my throat certainly felt as if I had slept through a chilly night.

And I was hungry. Knowing I had drank most of my water last night, and I only had a few more gulps of water left, I untied myself from the tree and drank the rest of the water. _Time to move,_ I thought restlessly.

It was a miracle no one saw me sleeping in that tree like that. Sleeping like I was in a feather bed. How the Capitol must have been laughing at that.

But right now, it didn't really seem to matter. We weren't people anymore; we were characters in a game show.

For the first time, I wished I could hunt. Haymitch's words came back to me.

"…_It's the Hunger Games. I doubt you'll be caring much about some rabbit's poor skin when you yourself is getting skinned alive."_

I wasn't getting skinned alive, but I now knew how soft it was of me to not learn how to hunt.

The sun beat down on me, and made me unbelievably thirsty. I had went too far away from the stream. What was I thinking? There were trees by the stream that offered shade as well as good branches to hide in.

I was so dumb. I had been too anxious to get out of there.

Then I remembered if I had any sponsors, they could send me some water. Just enough to keep me going while I look for water again.

I was about to whisper 'water' when I thought, _Not yet. It's not time to rely on sponsors yet. Don't._

I couldn't give up this easily. If I did, I would probably have no sponsors at all.

I kept walking, no matter how tired I got. I felt like I was walking to my own death. I stumbled and fell a couple times, but I managed to claw myself back up and keep going.

After a few more hours of this, I knew it was over. I had reached my limit. This forest was endless, and even if I did make it out of here, I could end up in a desert, or worse, dead. It's a miracle already I haven't been discovered by another tribute.

I clenched my teeth and forced myself back up. I needed water. Desperately.

I had already exerted myself physically, and having ate nothing but a few dried pieces of fruit and limited amount of water, my mind couldn't function properly and I could see black spots as I tried to continue walking.

My lips formed the words to ask for assistance from any sponsor that would help me.

But then the sound of a branch swaying loudly interrupted me, and I opened my eyes weakly. I looked back and against the sun, I saw the silhouette of a small, dark figure hidden in the trees.

--

Author's Notes: Bet you can guess who that dark figure is! If you can, you get a nice, big chocolate chip cookie! Those who review get lots of chocolate chip cookies! 3

[[ thanks to all those that favorite/subscribe :3 but can you please review too? It's not too much to just say a couple words, is it? :D ]]

Thanks to those who did, and I'll be up with the next chapter soon!


	8. Chapter 8: Ally

Author's Notes: This chapter dedicated to my awesome reviewers. ^^ -hands out chocolate chip cookies- But the answer was pretty obvious, wasn't it? I mean, who else can jump through trees like that??

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hunger Games or its characters, except Domick._

--

Chapter Seven: Ally

It was Rue. She jumped down from the tree and ran over to me.

"You can't be serious," I said, starting to laugh weakly. Despite everything that's happened, my mind still found energy to laugh.

"What?" Rue asked, confused at my sudden chuckling.

"You can jump – on trees like that!" I replied.

Rue made a face and said, "If you keep laughing all the Careers will come after us. Come on, you need some water. You look almost dead."

"Oh no, I do?" I said worriedly. "I was going to ask my sponsors for water. Got anything from your sponsors?"

"I don't need anything yet."

"Oh." I felt a little sheepish at needing water so soon. We crept over behind some bushes and she handed me a metal bottle of water.

"How did you find me?" I said after a while.

"You were crashing through the bushes like a wounded animal."

"I was?"

"Yeah, but who could blame you? Being thirsty and all," she said.

"You weren't joking when you said you were hard to catch. Rue, you could win the Games!" I said seriously, taking a measured gulp of water and letting my mind sort itself out.

She shrugged, running her hand through the grassy ground. "Maybe. My chances aren't that high."

After resting for a while, I could sense Rue's urge to keep moving.

"Okay, let's go," I said, getting up.

Rue was suddenly alert. "Did you hear that?" she whispered.

I tilted my head, listening for any sounds. Only the trees answered back with its rustling branches.

"I thought I heard something," Rue said quietly. "Come on, let's move."

She was itching to be jumping in the trees again, but obviously I didn't have the talent to swing from branch to branch, so I dogged behind her as we moved through the trees.

"Sorry if I'm slowing you down," I said as we started to go deeper into the forest.

"It's okay. I keep thinking I'm hearing someone," she replied, glancing behind her every few seconds.

This time I did hear it. A piercing scream. It sounded like a male voice.

"What direction was it from?" I said, turning my head quickly.

"Follow me, it was back there." Rue started to run towards to the right; I had no choice but to follow.

As we neared the sound we could hear moaning and pleading coming from the supposed victim. I flinched every time a cry of agonized pain went up.

Rue stopped suddenly and motioned behind a bush. I knew the location of the noise was almost in front of us, and we got down on our stomachs and crawled over behind the undergrowth.

Suddenly everything was silent again.

"Did you hear that?" A girl's voice said.

"I think someone's near us," a male voice replied.

"Aw, I was just having fun," the girl complained.

We didn't dare breathe as we listened to their conversation. Would they find us? Did they know where we were?

"Doesn't matter. Let's finish him off," the boy said. I could hear him walking. Through the tiny holes in the undergrowth I saw legs crouching down beside a fallen body.

"Remember what I said?" the boy growled to the victim, who let out a squeak of pain.

I closed my eyes as the victim's incessant whimpering grew, until the boy said, "Okay, we're done here. Let nature take him. Let's hunt down whoever's spying on us."

"You sure he'll die?" the girl questioned. But the boy didn't reply and footsteps led away from us, in the opposite direction.

I was about to get up when Rue pushed me back down. She shook her head in warning. I caught on. It could be a trick.

But I could still hear the whimpering coming from the clearing, and only when Rue confirmed we could stand up did I take a closer look.

The victim was a ragged boy with a bad shoulder wound, blood seeping out from various wounds on his body. They all looked to be inflicted by a knife.

"_Aw, I was just having fun," the girl complained._

The boy seemed to look at us with a begging stare before finally falling unconscious. His body was splattered with mud, especially his face; so much we couldn't even tell his hair color.

"Should we help him?" Rue asked uncertainly, approaching him. "He doesn't look very dangerous."

"Well, we can't just let him die here," I said, knowing Haymitch was probably fuming at me allying with another weak person. I brushed it off and took hold of his soggy shirt.

Rue and I dragged him and half threw him into the bushes which sprang up around him, providing some cover. We were sure not to worsen any of his injuries as I quickly noted, "He's losing a lot of blood." I felt around my pockets, and somehow caught hold of the pocketknife.

I ripped off a piece of my jacket and some rope while Rue took a few leaves and scraped away most of the dirt and grime smeared on the boy's skin. Then I stuck the fabric firmly to the boy's shoulder, where the wound was worse and used to rope to secure it.

Rue took out a few leaves, put them in her mouth, chewed, and spit it out; rubbing them on the boy's swollen hands.

"I know those leaves," I said suddenly. The only difference was my mother used a mallet to mash up the leaves and add some other ingredients before applying them onto her patient.

Rue smiled. "We use those all the time if our hands get cuts and scrapes while in the field."

The boy groaned and tried to roll over. I caught sight of a pack strapped to his belt and unclipped it.

"What's in it?" Rue asked. I opened the flap and looked inside. Nothing.

"They boy and girl must have taken everything," I sighed dejectedly.

"Well, we can still use it," Rue responded, just as the boy rolled back on his back.

Rue's sharp eyes looked around us as she said, "I don't like sitting here. We should move in a tree, or something. For all we know, the boy and girl might be trying to hunt us down."

"True. But he's still not awake," I said.

"Well, we need to get food before it's dark," Rue pointed out.

Of course. Food. Water. How dumb could I get?

I stood up. "Let's cover him with leaves and hope he's still here when we get back."

We threw leaves and branches over him, trying to make the pile seem inconspicuous.

"Look, see those plants?" Rue said once we started to leave our temporary camp. She was pointing at some dull green, tangling plants near the bases of trees.

"They're edible," I said again, surprised. There was food _all_ around me, and I didn't even notice it until Rue told me.

"That's what I'm planning on living off of," she said, and started grabbing handfuls of it and stuffing them into the pack we got from the boy.

I quickly followed her lead and I slightly marked the base of the trees with the pocketknife to keep track of our route. We had been walking for some time now, our strength beginning to waver as we slowed down to observe the dimming sky.

Then I spotted familiar sharp pointed leaves in front of us. The roots, when boiled, were good to eat. But I recalled that these plants were usually found near water.

Water…

"Rue," I murmured happily.

She followed my eyes and her smile widened. "We found water!" we both start chuckling and ran, feeling the soil beneath us become soft and mushy as we neared a small pond.

"This is a good place for plants, too," Rue said, her eyes shining. We refilled our containers with as much water as we could fit in and purified it with the iodine, then spent the next several minutes happily gathering plants.

I would've wanted to stay by the pond when I remembered we had to get back to our newest ally, and quick before it was too dark to see our trail.

That night we had more than enough food to eat, but we didn't risk building a fire in the darkness, so instead we ate the nuts and berries.

"Don't eat until you're full," Rue cautioned. "Someone might take advantage of us if we're lying there with our stomachs full."

The boy hadn't awoken yet but I had a feeling he was laying low while he tried to figure out what happened.

We treated him with the ointment, and as the anthem began to play, we climbed into a tree to watch the skies for anyone we might know.

"There's only been a couple deaths today. This might mean we could be in trouble soon," Rue said thoughtfully.

"Why?" I asked naively.

"We're not giving them a big enough show," Rue pointed out blandly.

"We should try to relocate to the pond tomorrow," I said. "There's more cover."

"I have a feeling they're going to come back looking for the boy since they've found out he hasn't died yet," Rue agreed. She looked up at the sky. "We need to do something back to them. Something…like revenge?"

That's how we spent most of the night, thinking of scenarios and ways to trick the other tributes. The later it became, the more far fetched out ides were. Soon I had to grip on to the branch tightly so I wouldn't fall out of the tree in a laughing fit.

"No, we should trick them into eating poisonous berries," Rue whispered.

"That's not a bad idea. Go into their food storage and put in a bunch of poison berries," I said. "But it might be dangerous."

"I think it'd be exciting, watching our plan work," Rue replied casually.

That was the big difference between us. Rue liked adventure and action. I was more docile and not as adventurous. She decided to keep watch in case anyone hunting at night found us, while I tried to catch up on some sleep.

My mind was too worked up to even think about sleep, no matter how desperately I needed it. So we ended up trading off on watching and sleeping, even though we pretended to sleep most of the time.

--

A loud shuffling below us awoke me. My eyes, groggy, took a while to take in my surroundings and I once again remembered what happened during the last couple days.

I looked over to where Rue was sleeping beside me and saw her finger rise to her lips, and back down, motioning someone was moving below us.

I rolled over slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever was making the noise.

It was the boy we were taking care of. Appearing awake, he was trying to stumble out of the leaves and branches we put on top of him.

"Hey," I whispered. "We're up here."

The boy glanced up at me, alarmed. His eyebrows arched up in surprise as he saw I was awake.

"We're the ones who saved you," I said, throwing off the branches and the sack I held close to me to try and keep myself a little warm.

The boy's pale, thin face quickly nodded as I carefully crawled down the tree and beside him.

Rue came after, a little more warily and alert.

"You made a lot of noise," she told the boy, almost apologetically. "Sorry, I guess we put too many branches. We were trying to cover you up."

"What's your name?" I asked, as soon as we made sure the area we were in was clear.

The boy mumbled something along the lines of "District Nine".

We spread out our food, and after encouraging him and assuring we did _not _poison the food and eating some ourselves, he looked a little more comfortable, but he still wouldn't tell us his name.

"Okay, fine, you're 'Nine' then," I said, as we started walking again. Nine didn't respond, just shook his head and kept behind us.

I supposed I had a feeling in my gut some kind of trouble was coming to us soon. We fared well throughout the day, mostly gathering more food and keeping Nine's injuries clean. We traveled slow, Nine stopping and wincing every few steps. He seemed to quickly turn his head around every time he paused, too. Was he just being extra careful?

It turned out, we didn't follow the trail to the pond. Instead, we ventured out more, to the lake maybe.

Rue and I had planned last night to try and leave the area where Careers could be roaming, and if the Gamemakers had any intentions of somehow forcing us to run into each other and make us fight.

But we had to share our water with another now, and our supply was already depleted. Then when Nine stopped dead, we knew he was done with walking for the day.

Maybe taking on this boy for our ally wasn't such a good idea.

--

"We should've stayed at the pond," I groaned, massaging my parched throat. The nights became steadily cooler, and the days long and hot. We still couldn't find a water source.

"Don't waste your energy," Rue insisted, pushing us on. Our remaining food was only nuts and a few shriveled plants.

We had tried to keep Nine as healthy as possible, because for one, we didn't want our efforts on him to be wasted, and two, we didn't want to have to waste our food on someone who had a ticket to death anyway.

After another day of trekking, Nine had proved to be handy with a spear. Using my pocketknife, he sharpened a long, sturdy branch into a pointy, useful weapon. Impressed, it raised our morale as we silently made our way into the unknown.

"Have to keep walking," I said, to no one in particular consistently. "Have to keep walking."

As we took a break in the shade, I wondered if we should make Rue go off – the truth was she would be so much better without Nine and me. Jumping through the shady covers of the trees, she would be more efficient, and would probably get more sponsors.

I felt guilty. It kept prickling up my neck we gathered what we had to continue.

Then I started to follow Rue's tiny figure as she determinedly lead the way. But when I tried to reach for another step, I couldn't.

_What? What's going on?_ I thought, panicking. I lifted my right leg slowly. It followed, but something didn't feel right. I didn't _feel_ it.

"Hey," I said softly, not wanting to look down at my leg. My mind hadn't registered yet, but my gut knew.

Rue snapped her head back, drew her slingshot and raced towards a tree, while Nine drifted backwards, pale and afraid as he stared at my right leg. I shifted my eyes down slightly and saw a black knife embedded right below my knee.

The odd thing was I couldn't feel anything. Had it hit a certain nerve?

Then finally my brain kicked in and I heard Katniss's voice again, shouting, "Don't stand there! Get out of the way!"

In a daze I ran and clawed up a tree, my leg useless as I couldn't feel anything. My left leg fell and I lost my footing as I hugged the sides of the trees with my fingers, feeling something else hit my left leg.

Tears in my eyes, I half fell, half jumped onto a limb, reaching out and jerking the knife from my knee. I let out a scream as blood began to immediately pool out of my leg.

I could hear shouts as Rue or Nine attacked back at our ambusher.

I had every instinct to throw the knife away, never see it again, but instead I stabbed it into the tree to relieve the pain of my wound, and let out another yell.

_Help me_, I pleaded to Katniss in my mind.

I opened my eyes as I saw Rue jumping lithely among the trees, pinpointing the enemy and sending rocks flying. But where was Nine?

"W-where's Nine?" I whispered, clenching my leg and squeezing my eyes shut again.

"Shh. Don't talk," Rue replied quickly, repositioning her slingshot, taking aim, and shooting a rock somewhere into the woods as my head spun and lost consciousness.

--Rue's POV--

I quickly selected another rock from Nine's pouch, placed it in the sling, and watched for any movement among the bushes. She was playing sneaky. Two could play at that game.

I knew I had hit the person. My rocks were too small to perfectly see through the trees and undergrowth, but I had good aim.

The hand flashed out and I easily dodged it, the knife lodging into the tree's trunk behind me. That was the disadvantage of using knives. The hand had to push forward while I had to pull backward.

I shot another rock at the rapidly moving undergrowth and watch as I saw a whip of hair and a triumphant face disappear behind the trees, leaving behind a small, evil laugh.

I recognized that laugh.

It was the voice of the girl that had hurt Nine. The hair, the face, the voice, the knives, the knife marks on Nine…Clove. The Career girl who was a master at the art of knives.

I shook my head, jumping to Prim. "Nine," I called out in a low voice. I would need to teach them the mockingjay tune soon.

"…Nine?" I called out again, still uncertain.

Gritting my teeth, I tried to support Prim on my arm as I climbed down the tree, but couldn't do so without somehow dropping her.

Blood still hadn't stopped flowing from her injury.

I looped the rope in Prim's sack around her waist and awkwardly got her down.

"Nine, where are you," I muttered, trying to find my pack with herbs. It wasn't there. Could it be somehow the Clove girl took the pack? No way. Nine was in the way, and with a spear too.

Unless Nine ran away.

I ripped off what was left of my jacket and tied it around Prim's leg, applying pressure to try and stop her knee. _Don't die…_

I needed those herbs, _now_. But that wasn't an option. "I need medicine," I said clearly, wondering if there was any hope. As the time wore on, I became increasingly scared and sick to my stomach. I was out here, in plain sight, with an injured ally and no reliable weapon.

Then a small, silver parachute appeared in the bright sky.

Desperate, I grabbed it and untied the item attached. It was a lumpy package covered in strips of cloth. Bandages. Some kind of ointment. Medicine.

By the look of things, Prim's sponsors weren't sure if they could send it to me, District Eleven, but somehow gotten through. Either way, I was glad and quickly applied the medicine and wrapped her leg up.

Her leg might not be right, even if the wound managed to close.

I shut my eyes, and started to hum the mockingjay tune. It was a comforting, reassuring song. I just sat there and whistled, and then the mockingjays began to sing back. I tried to express myself in the music, smiling as I recalled the pin on Prim's jacket.

Back to business. What could I consider? Nine, who ran away. Nine, who bravely went after her. But my pack of precious herbs was still gone. Both ways, he was still a traitor. Traitor…

I summed up the facts. Clove ambushed us. She injured Prim, and tried to attack me. Made no movement to Nine, an evidently weakened boy. Although he had a spear, she had many knives. Yet he ran after her. And he took what was most valuable to me in this arena.

He took my herbs, my lifeline. _Traitor…_

My eyes widened in realization.

"_Remember what I said?" the boy growled to the victim…_

_--_

Author's Notes: Ugh, this chapter was a tough one to write! I know I introduced Nine only for a short amount of time, but he'll be back. Some parts seemed a little…weird to me? Maybe it was how the action was played out.

Whatever Rue found out, will play a role later in the story…

This week, I baked brownies :D If you want some, you know what you have to do… ^^ Thanks again for reading, and please review and take a brownie!


	9. Chapter 9: Tremor

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hunger Games or its characters, except for Domick and Nine._

Author's Notes: Back to Prim's POV =)

_--_

Chapter Eight: Tremor

I woke up with my head throbbing instantly, and pain shooting up my leg.

"What the…" I started to say then stopped, noticing how dry my mouth was.

Rue's anxious face appeared above me. "You're awake. You've been knocked out for a couple days," she said, taking out a bottle. "How do you feel?"

I moaned. "Like a trampled tribute."

"Here, try not to move. We don't want your leg to start bleeding again." She started to unwrap my leg, which I still couldn't feel, and applied some thick ointment.

"Where's Nine?" I asked.

"Gone. I have no idea where he went. It's sort of a long story…you thirsty?" Rue offered her metal water bottle, and I gratefully took it.

"All I remember was someone hitting me with a knife and I climbed a tree," I said, uncapping the bottle.

"You're right. It was Clove," Rue replied, opening Nine's pack and bringing out the knife that had hit me in the knee. The blood was cleaned off it and the metal shined brightly in the sun. "She ran away, Nine disappeared, and I dragged you away."

I frowned. "I must have been heavy…and where'd you get this water?"

Rue grinned. "It was yesterday. You still weren't awake, and I was half carrying you, but I encountered a couple of tributes fighting it out. I took out the last one standing with the knife, and grabbed what they had."

"Y-you did?" I said, imagining Rue taking advantage of the weakened tribute from behind. "Nice, did they have the medicine too?"

"No, your sponsors sent it to me. I was surprised they were able to send it to me, anyway, but we're good now."

I nodded, sitting up slowly. "If I can walk, then we should get moving soon." I took note of the darkening clouds in the sky, and tried to stand up. It was harder than I thought. My legs just couldn't support my body, and when I put a hand on Rue's shoulder to support myself, pain spread through my arm.

"Sit back down," Rue said, helping my lower myself. Then she took out two bags, opened them, and set the contents out. She had obtained a few things from the two tributes, but it looked like they didn't have much on them anyway.

"Wait…" I said. "Wasn't there another bag? With herbs?"

"Oh, yeah…Nine took that too," said Rue, looking down. I blinked. Was Nine really capable of doing all that? _Don't underestimate_.

We had a steady supply of herbs, nuts, berries, a tin cup, Clove's black-handled knife, three water bottles plus my water skin, my rope, the pocketknife, bandages and medicine, a hammer, matches and two tattered blankets.

After taking a good look at what we had, I tilted my face towards the sky. "It looks like it might rain tonight."

"Yeah," Rue agreed. "We might have to move next to a tree to get some cover. The trees here aren't the best for sleeping in."

I looked around and saw that she was right. The tree's trunks were too skinny or smooth, their branches too high up or not sturdy enough. I tried to stand up again, but finally gave up and smoothed my bandages, wincing as I my finger brushed against my jagged wound.

"What are you doing?" I asked, as Rue cleared a small circle between us and piled up some twigs and leaves in a small pit.

"Making a small fire. It's going to rain soon anyway, so might as well take advantage of that," she replied, striking the matches and lighting up the fire pit.

She was right. We were just beginning to boil the greens she had gathered when a crack of thunder appeared and heavy rain started falling upon the arena.

We stuffed anything that could get damaged in the rain in my water skin, because of its fabric, and could only try to wait the storm out.

We huddled around the tree I was sitting under, feeling extremely vulnerable as we could barely see two feet in front of us.

Rue's slingshot was attached around her hand at all times, and I kept the knife by me, just for reassurance, although I knew I didn't know how to use it.

I was fiddling with a stick, running the tip through the dirt on the ground when I caught Rue staring at something on my jacket.

"What are you staring at?" I asked curiously.

"Your mockingjay pin," she answered.

I had completely forgotten about it. "Oh, a girl named Madge gave it to me for my District token. Do you have a token?"

Rue nodded and showed me. The woven strings of her charm reminded me of the girl at the Reaping, making some kind of bracelet.

Then Rue continued on to teach me a mockingjay whistle, which I completely blew, literally. I couldn't whistle, so instead I hummed it. It wouldn't have exactly the same effect but I liked the tune anyway.

The heavy downpour hadn't stopped when it became dark. My hand felt for the knife, afraid of what could come out of the darkness and the heavy beating of the rain.

By now, even under the cover of the trees, we were getting soaked. We traded off holding the thin blanket above us to keep some rain off, but Rue made me put it over my leg injury to try and shield it.

It turned impossible to try and put medicine on my leg and rewrap it without getting it all over the place, and keeping the wound and bandages dry, so I just left it at that, hoping my condition wouldn't worsen.

A few days ago we were dying of thirst. Now it was beginning to be hunger. And coldness. I shivered as the anthem played and four tributes' faces flickered dimly in the sky.

Sometime during all of this, we dozed off, occasionally waking to another crack of thunder and took watch for several minutes before falling back against the trunk. The rain was finally retreating as the night wore on.

When only a light drizzle remained and it was close to dawn and I was awake, I woke Rue up quickly.

Rue's eyes opened instantly as she shook water from her hair and clothes. We drank the water that had accumulated in the tin cup and various places before eating our store of nuts, and chewing on some leaves, rubbed our skin dry with the other blanket, wringing out the wet one.

Then, sitting on the ground, I unwrapped my bandages and tried not to put on a sickened grimace as I stared at the slash Clove had inflicted. I carefully wiped around the cut with the wet blanket, and put the medicine, which had a very strong smell, on it.

After gingerly testing out my leg, we started to silently hike through the forest again, when Rue paused.

"What's wrong?" I asked, but almost immediately she kept on walking.

I hurried to catch up with her, my jaw clenched as I felt a jab a pain come from my foot.

"We've got someone behind us," Rue breathed. "Don't look back," she warned quickly, reading my movements two steps ahead.

As much as I wanted to glance back quickly, I knew that would give us away and might urge our follower to attack.

"Look," Rue said under her breath again, once I was close enough, "Let's go two different ways. I'll jump into the trees, you on foot. Once I'm sure the guy isn't after me I'll turn back and keep an eye on you."

"Okay, only one problem," I said out loud, for our follower's benefit. I dropped my voice. "He's going to go after me for sure." How I hated those words, and how pathetic they sounded.

"Don't worry, I'm fast," Rue assured out loud, then whispered, "I'll turn back as soon as I jump a tree."

I nodded, not feeling up to this at all. "Are you _sure _there's someone following us?" I hesitated.

"_Yes_."

"Oh, okay," I said, giving up.

"Keep going straight, don't run," Rue ordered. She veered off track suddenly, jumping into a tree at a lightning speed, then she was gone.

I stopped dead, throwing a quick look behind me. Shoot. I shouldn't have done that. But I started to jog nonetheless in a straight line, hoping that I would just survive this. My limp became more obvious as my legs took on an awkward, gaited jog.

Then a black and brown blur dropped beside me. I let out a terrified squeak, but realized it was Rue again.

"So?" I said in a low whisper, wanting to sink down on my knees and massage my burning injury.

"She's smart," Rue answered in a matter-of-factly way, then we started running, flames licking up my leg as if it were burning up the insides.

"Smart?" I managed to ask. "What do you mean?"

"She stopped as soon as we separated. Didn't go towards you, or me. Just stopped. I couldn't hear her anymore." Rue took a couple sharp turns around trees and weaved through a series of bushes and boulders before darting behind a huge, flat rock slanted to its side.

There weren't many trees here, so they must mean we were getting out of the forest zone.

"Oh," I sighed gratefully, leaning my leg against the cold, smooth surface of the stone.

"Sorry," Rue said, before dropping her pack and handing me the bottle of medicine.

"Don't be," I said instantly. "I should be sorry. I'm slowing you down."

"What if I was hurt and I said that to you?" she said, a small smile forming.

"Well, that's not going to be true, ever, so why bother," I shrugged, unwrapping the cloth and taking another look at the deep cut. It wasn't looking good.

"It's no good putting stress on that leg," Rue said.

"It's no good just sitting around like prey, either. The person following us could be right on our tracks. We should get moving soon," I said firmly, and forced myself to get back up.

Despite my words, we slowed down gradually. There were many large rocks in this area, providing nice cover, so as long as we were hidden behind them, we could take short breaks.

Camouflaged behind rocks with leaves and forest debris, Rue and I talked about our lives; what we did, our families, anything to distract ourselves from fears.

"Since it's so hot in the summer, and there isn't a lot of wood in our District, not many of us have chimneys, and we'd rather not risk our houses being burnt down from fires during bad weather.

"The weather usually clears up within a day or two, then we have to make up for the lost work," Rue explained. "So we might as well work outside anyway."

Then, we came across something truly horrible, in a way I couldn't possibly imagine.

A dead girl's body lying on top of a tall rock, a mutilated, carved piece of flesh stabbed into the stone. A terrifying trophy.

"Oh," Rue murmured, looking up at the body. We stared at it for a few moments, silent, before seeing droplets of blood sprinkling the area around the rock.

It was like a cup of blood red paint had spilled over the table and landed around this grisly statue.

That could've been one of us.

"Are you thinking who I'm thinking?" I said, and felt my fingers curl around the black handled knife at my side.

"Are you feeling what I'm feeling?" Rue's feet shuffled the ground slightly.

"What?" Then I felt it. A small tremor in the ground.

--

I got down on my knees and placed my hands on the dirt. The quaking was growing stronger.

Earthquake.

"Quick, we should get out of here," Rue said, jumping as the dead girl shifted off her rock.

I followed Rue as rocks seemed to shake around threateningly. "Why us?" I cried as a branch fell off a tree, blocking our path.

"I don't know, just run!" Rue dodged another branch off a tree as the ground began to crack.

"What is this?" I shouted, feeling another large shake. I'd never been in an earthquake before, and certainly not one of this magnitude. It was like the ground was about to separate into two.

Rue grabbed my shoulder and wrenched me to the side, away from a falling tree. "Don't talk! Just run!"

My hand touched a boulder for support in rounding a corner before I tripped on a tree root and went skidding across the ground.

_Ugh_! I got back up, feeling my leg cry out in pain as I jumped over a fallen log, tearing skin on the rough bark.

Was this how the Gamemakers were going to kill us? Through a natural disaster? Or not so natural, but more human made.

"Come on!" I hear Rue yell, motioning over a creek. Her left cheek had a bad scrape, but otherwise, still agile. She leaped over the gully and quickly turned back to me. "Hurry!"

The earthquake was still going strong, leaving trees tearing down on us. I reached the stream and took a giant step across the stream when the springy branches of the tree fell almost right on me, causing me to jump back away from safety.

_Bad luck!_ I tried to run through the thick tree leaves, but all I succeeded in doing was flailing around. Ducking to the side, I realized the earthquake was also going on the other side of the gully, meaning Rue was in trouble too.

My voice was drowned out by the crashing of rocks, trees and branches slapping the water, and the ground emitting a large rumble as I tried to tell Rue to run.

Trying to get out of where I was standing was proving impossible, with all the distractions going on and my leg immobilized.

"Prim! Prim!" I heard Rue call, trying to reach me across the stream.

"Just go!" I shouted back, trying to get back on my feet.

The earthquake was slowly starting to subside, but when I finally untangled myself and got back on my feet, I looked across the gully and saw multiple trees on their sides, creating piles of green leaves and broken trunks.

Rue must have gone.

I crawled out of the space and crossed the stream. All was silent now.

My foot in the cool water, I felt relief. I wanted to go look for Rue, but being as thirsty as I was, I decided to stay by the stream. The benefit of having the earthquake was there was much, more cover due to the fallen trees and logs.

On my shoulder was my bag, with the blankets, rope, and my pocketknife. No herbs, medicine, or bandages. Disadvantage.

After drinking my fill, I crawled back into the leaves of the felled tree, curling up on my side, keeping an open eye for anyone.

I heard a loud shout and several voices. Nestling deeper into the leaves, I peaked out through the little holes in the leaves.

"Gone! I missed it!" a voice yelled. Male.

"Don't worry, she won't be hard to finish off later," another voice assured. Female.

"That was quite an earthquake," the male voice said.

"I wonder if it successfully killed off anyone," the female commented.

"If it did, those tributes were weak. At least we're rid of some of them."

I held my breath as the two tributes came out from behind the fallen trees across the gully.

I blinked and suddenly recognized their voices. The two Careers who had injured Nine. Clove and Cato. I narrowed my eyes at the knives hooked to Clove's belt, my hand trailing to the black handled knife that had belonged to her.

_Just my luck_, I sighed mentally, trying to drop lower into the ground, hoping they wouldn't come my way.

"We're back to where we started," Cato snarled, kicking a rock. It flew into the water.

"Do you think the rest will be able to find us?" Clove asked, not looking concerned.

"Who cares. They probably wouldn't have lasted this long without us," Cato answered roughly, chucking another stone into the water.

The two were silent for several minutes, cleaning their weapons, Cato grumbling every once in a while when he found something broken our out of place.

_What am I going to do now? I can't stay here forever, _I thought restlessly, and time passed further.

Where was Rue? Was she safe? Did she get hurt from the Careers? I didn't dare close my eyes for more than a second, though. Who knew what the Careers were going to do?

The sky was darkening, as the Careers refilled their water containers and took out some sort of sunglasses.

What were they going to do with those? The glasses didn't look like the normal sunglasses I had seen a few years back in one of the stores during the summer. The lenses were bulkier, and looked more complicated than sunglasses.

I saw Clove smile wickedly as she drew out a thin, but sharp knife from inside her jacket. Its black handle was identical to the one that was by my side.

"Let's get hunting," Cato said, flourishing a sword. They put on their glasses and I had a feeling it was to help their sight during the night.

This was bad. The glasses would improve their vision, even if they didn't need to wear them during the daytime, which meant my chances of getting discovered had increased.

I squeezed my eyes tight, as if the whites of my eyes would've given me away. _Please, please, don't let them see me_, I prayed over and over again.

Somewhere in between all this, I amazingly dozed off, but woke up immediately after a cannon blasted. One of them must have made a kill. Then, not long after this, the anthem started and I saw that more people than usual had died.

How many people were left? How many were still alive? I could only guess how many had died when I was still unconscious, but according to my recount, there should be at least nine of us left.

I wasn't sure if the Careers would return back here, not to mention it was pitch black, so I stayed put in the cover of leaves. Fear pinched my skin like a nagging splinter.

The road to the top ten – or nine, I should say, wasn't as hard as shown on T.V. All my skin was intact. All body parts were still together. I hadn't gone insane. And I have Rue to thank that for. The real part of all this had just started.

_This is where it truly begins for me…_

--

Author's Notes: Well, there you go! I might write a Hunger Games Christmas drabble or something, just because I like writing Christmassy stuff :)

That brought up a memory for me – I would always get red circles around the word 'stuff' in my English class because my English teacher was particularly negative towards that word!  
In fact, I could go on and on about random things, because that's what Author's Notes are for, and if you're still reading this, thank you and Happy Holidays! -gives you gingerbread cookies-

Prim: Aww, I want gingerbread cookies!  
Me: I've actually never had gingerbread cookies before. Seriously.  
All: Gasp!


	10. Chapter 10: Instinct

Chapter Nine: Instinct

All this time, my back had always been watched by Rue, and now I can just see how pathetic I look on television – which I've actually forgotten I was on air a few times.

As I walked close painstakingly close to the trees, taking double the time, I wondered how my death would be. It wouldn't be fast for sure. In fact, I have no idea how I even made this far. Actually, I do. It's all because of Rue.

What if I had died in the first days of the Games? Now, I'm guessing the Capitol had open eyes on me, trying to figure out if I was hiding any secret talent. What a big surprise they were going to get.

I wasn't aware of the thinning amount of trees as I continued walking to my unknown destination. _Yep, keep running away, that's me,_ I thought sarcastically.

I paused to feel the bottom of my foot with my hand, rubbing the calloused skin, then checking on my wound. My injury wasn't looking too bad, and it still hurt, but compare it to some I see back at home, I suddenly feel considerably better.

I've been walking for longer than I usually have when I realized I wasn't feeling as tired. My fitness teacher at my school had said something about your body having extra energy stored up and ready to use when you've been working out for a while, but that's the best excuse I have.

After the rainstorm, the weather seemed to be getting hotter and hotter. My water was all used up, and any streams I had found soon after were dried up.

The first sign I noticed of the terrain changing was the ground got harder, and the dirt was going from the forest's dark brown soil to dried and sandy dirt.

I rubbed my hands. They felt extremely dry. Then I looked around me, wondering if anyone else had come here already, before continuing to walk ahead.

What did I see? Cliffs, cutting off the path looming dangerously in front of me. I looked over slightly, wondering if the ground would crumble and fall. Below, I saw hills of green and a blue stream running through it.

Was it real? I pulled my head back, feeling dizzy from the heat and lack of water. No, it couldn't be. It had be some sort of picture they formed digitally.

I sat down on a nearby rock to organize my thoughts. First, I needed water. Obviously. Second, I needed to… I blinked. Maybe that was why I was in this situation. Unlike the other tributes, I had no goal, or set myself something to achieve. The Careers? Their goal was to win, of course.

I thought mine was to win. No, I said mine was to win, but mine was to stay alive. To stay alive was such a broad thought, unlike killing at least two tributes a day, or find a bag of food each day.

I was still deep in my thoughts of what I could use to motivate myself when a loud panting came from behind. Spinning around, I saw a male tribute running for his life, tripping over rocks, tearing his clothes, just trying to get away from something.

Following his lead, I tried to look for something to hide myself behind, but found nothing. All I could do was crouch down beside the rock and draw my knife, holding it at a position that I could easily throw.

The tribute hastily looked around and saw me, knife in my hand. I could swear I heard his heart pumping his precious last beats. What was most astonishing was I didn't feel anything. Whether it was the pain in my leg, the sweat covering my back, the heat beating down on me or my dehydration, something made me feel different.

I supposed it was like comparing to browsing at a store, which I've only done a couple times in my entire life. You see something you like, and carry it around the remainder of the time before knowing you can't buy it, and you just place it somewhere, not thinking much about the trouble it causes to the person who has to find the correct place to put it back.

Only this was a much, more severe situation.

Then another male tribute followed behind the weakened one. My body and eyes seemed to know who it was, jolting a bit, but my mind still hadn't said it officially. The name swam in my brain like a piece of lint in water until it finally snapped into place. Domick.

I hadn't seen Domick since the start of the games, but the look in his eyes was completely different. It was hostile, and that trait changed everything that made him the person he was.

He hadn't noticed me either, because the boy he was going after was facing me, but when the boy reared off to the side, exposing me, I saw him stop a little. A smile curved his lips. "Hey, Prim. Taking him, too?"

I had no idea what he meant when I realized he was talking about the tribute whose life he was about to end. I just gaped. Did he really think I would do that? Then I thought about it again. Maybe I would, now.

Seeing me must've made an old part of the Domick piece back together. He didn't have the ruthless look on his face anymore, but the certainty I had seen in his eyes had wavered.

He looked at me as if to say, "Go on. Do it, before he suffers any more."

The shaking tribute before us saw the cliffs, and before my mind could fully comprehend what he was about to do, the boy leapt over the cliff.

My instinct was to dive over to help, but that would be completely dumb. Apparently Domick thought so too, because his head did jerk a little, but he kept his eyes on the empty space by the cliff where the tribute was standing only a few moments earlier.

"Is he dead?" I said, looking over the side.

"Move back," Domick replied.

I pulled back a little, wondering why he had said that, when my question was answered with the howling of the tribute, sailing back over the cliff and onto the ground before us.

"It's a force-field," I said flatly, not really surprised, or in awe.

I had no idea what was going through the tribute's mind at the moment, but if I was he, I would probably have gone insane by now, surrounded, at a huge disadvantage, yet not dead. _Just do it. Just do it. Just do it, _something in me chanted. That made me do it.

It was a good thing that my mind didn't react as quickly as it did, because when my arm made the swinging motion, my brain was still figuring out what I should do, and when the knife entered the boy's neck, my brain had just realized the knife had gone from my hand.

The last part I could only close my eyes.

--

"I wasn't expecting you to do that," Domick said, walking over and tugging the knife out of the dead tribute's neck. A cannon boomed overhead.

"I wasn't either," I replied, totally at truth. But the next question was, could I trust him?

As if reading my thoughts, Domick handed the knife to me. "Come on, I found a creek back there. We should catch up."

I wiped the knife on the dead tribute's shirt, and seeing he had nothing useful on him, followed Domick away from the cliff.

"To be honest, I'm surprised you made it this far, but I'm happy," Domick said while I was at pace with him.

"I am, too. Did you go solo all the way?"

"Nope. I was with the Careers."

The only movement of astonishment that came from me was my jaw jerking upward and my teeth biting my tongue.

"…that is, until the earthquakes separated us. They must've targeted me to be a part of them as soon as they saw my training score."

"Come to think of it, how did you get that score anyway?" I asked.

Domick held up a small coil of rope and a small, curved dagger attached to it at the end.

"Thanks to Clove and all those knives, I've gotten myself a pretty useful weapon."

"Okay…but seriously, what is that? And are we getting close to the water? I think I'm going to make a Hunger Games first by dieing because of talking," I said.

"First, it's a modified version of a whip, and second…I'll tell you when we're getting closer."

I looked away, the weariness in my legs becoming sharper to me. After a while of silence and just hiking, I let my eyelids close for short amounts of time, welcoming the darkness.

Just when I felt like I was going to have to crawl the rest of the way there, Domick pointed in front of me. "It should be somewhere over there. We're really close."

I started to run, not wanting to delay this any longer. Only about halfway to the stream with real, actual, running water, I collapsed on my injured leg.

"Stupid leg," I muttered, wrenching myself up and hobbling down to the water, falling to my knees in it. "Oh…my…gosh," I sighed, splashing water on my face, shoulders and arms.

Domick grinned slightly. "Feels good, doesn't it? You don't want to drink that water, though. That boy I was chasing threw up when he drank it."

I shuddered and stopped throwing water over myself, instead taking out my container for water and filling it up. "Hey got any…?" I asked.

Domick threw me the bottle of iodine to cleanse the water. "I think I'm glad I was the one carrying most of the Career's supplies now."

All I could do was clean myself and my clothes up while waiting for the water to be purified. When I looked over at Domick after quite some time, and he nodded, I knew the water was safe and the feeling when the water slid down my throat…Nothing compared.

Domick took out three plastic containers, filled them up with water, and set them back into his bag. "So, have you been going solo?"

I shook my head 'no' in response, too caught up with drinking the water.

"Thought so."

We were quiet again, just staring at the flowing water go by, until I said, "How many have you killed so far?" The question had been nagging at me for a bit.

"Two…three times? I mostly stayed as backup, though."

I pulled my legs close to me and leaned my head back, letting my eyelids droop. I barely got any rest last night with the Careers lurking about.

"Look," Domick said suddenly, standing up and backing away a few steps.

My eyes snapped open and I looked across the stream, into the clumps of grass that lined the bank. There was nothing there. I looked up at Domick, eyes questioning. Had he seen someone?

"Look again," he said quietly. "I swear it's there."

I continued to stare at the opposite side until my leg fell asleep. "Are you sure…?"

What came out of the bushes was something from my nightmares. It was a tribute who was seeking water, but the tribute was almost unrecognizable. It was obvious he had done quite a bit of camouflaging but never got the chance to wash all the layers of grime and dirt off, pasting a new costume over an old one.

Disgusting? Yes, he had managed to make himself look like a hulking brown bear that got trash all over. _That's probably what he's been using,_ I thought out. Using that bizarre costume would scare at least some of the tributes, or even make a few hesitate. Weird, but clever in a way.

Never mind that as he spotted his next prey, calculating his attack, and began to lumber towards us at a fairly fast speed for such a bulky appearance. I got into my crouch position, holding my knife out in front of me. "Two on one," I called out to the tribute, not wanting to kill him, or see him be killed.

While drinking the water, my senses came back to me and my mind was less of a wreck, bringing my conscience back in the picture and this time, I didn't have the heart to do what I did before.

There were only two reasonable choices I could see: Make him our ally, or let Domick take care of him. None topped in this case.

Domick brought out his whip-knife-thingy-contraption and held it in place, ready to attack.

The tribute looked like he was heading for Domick, but neither of us made a move to attack until the last minute. Now I saw the tribute was holding a short but large wooden club that seemed to be handmade.

The right thing for me to do would be to throw the knife right now – with the target as close as he was to me, I would have no problems with aiming, but I just couldn't do it. I know what I'm doing right now is causing Domick to hesitate too, because I'm here, and if he killed that tribute, I would still have to see the goriness of it all.

Apparently my new motto had become 'just do it', because all that ran through my mind was 'just do it'.

What I didn't see coming was the tribute, a few feet away from our frozen positions, made a huge leap towards me, and although he yelped as if something had hit from behind, I was too slow in dodging his attack, causing his club to smash against my left collarbone.

The impact made me want to scream from the depths of my heart, but as I was thrown from where I was crouching sideways onto the ground and my face rubbed against the soil, I turned my mouth inward until the ground completely covered it.

My scream came traveling up from the pit of my stomach to my throat until it hit my vocal chords – and I made a high pitch scream that the soil conveniently covered up, muffling most of the sound.

From the corners of my eyes I could see the tribute was somehow injured, blood becoming another layer of his camouflage as he was knocked to the ground. Yet he continued to crawl over to me, raising his club one last time to finish the job.

When he was almost directly above me and his club's fattest end pointed at my throat, purely on instinct, I rolled over, buckled my feet in and shot myself up, driving the knife through coats of mud and leaves when his eyes bulged suddenly and he finally fell back.

And Domick ended all this with throwing the final knife into the throat – the coup de grace.

--

As much as I wanted to jump up and get away from the second person I had injured today, what worried me the most was my broken collarbone. The slightest movement made my body jerk and caused my eyes to tear up.

When the cannon had sounded for the dead boy, I had jumped back, frightened at the sudden noise. Big mistake. It left me cowering down in pain, just wishing for the injury to be gone.

The quickest way to stop from tearing up was to be distracted, so using my right hand I reached over to my pack and pushed it towards Domick. "There's a towel inside to make a sling," I managed to say.

I gingerly tested my shoulder up to my neck, and part of my upper back as well, to make sure my spinal cord wasn't injured as well.

Domick took out the blanket and folded it into a triangle shape and helped me put my arm up in a sling. I winced and gasped slightly when I accidentally moved my arm when trying to get up.

"I know we should put ice on it, but that's not possible right now," Domick said, almost apologetically.

"If only we could go 'abracadabra'," I sighed, trying to contain myself from yelling out loud as the throbbing pain continued. I shut my eyes tightly, pain jolting up me as I tensed and relaxed my arm. My right hand traveled down to my knee injury, which was still bothering me but not as troublesome as what I had now.

"Wait," Domick said. He looked at me. "We could, if we have any sponsors."

"Yeah, right. Oh wait, of course _you _do, with that fantastic whip-knife-thingy-contraption," I said, rolling my eyes.

I wasn't about to accept that offer. For some reason, I just couldn't. Maybe my views of everything had changed. But as of now, I wasn't going to take advantage of someone else's sponsors, even if it was my district partner's. Instead, I was going to show them I wasn't about to freak out over this.

I stood up and walked over to my bag, accepting a water bottle from Domick and placing it inside, hoisting the pack on my right shoulder. _Don't forget your knife. _

Kneeling down by the dead boy, I reached over his limp, hulking body and grabbed hold of the knife's handle. I drew it out, not believing how much grime had accumulated on the knife's blade, covering the boy's blood. I noticed the blood that was staining the grass from under him.

"Did you do that?" I asked Domick. He nodded. "With my 'whip-knife-thingy-contraption'," he added. One of my eyebrows arched as I let myself be impressed by how effective his weapon was.

Domick came over to the boy too, pulling out his own knife out of the tribute's neck. After scraping the blades on some grass and washing it in the stream, we were finally ready to depart this place.

If this hadn't happened, I would have been more than happy to stay by the stream, but as childish as it may sound, I didn't want to be haunted by the ghost of the dead tribute at night.

We start to wordlessly travel deeper back into the forest, making sure to stay close to the stream, where we would always have a steady supply of water, as it travelled upward, wherever it was going.

"I think its leading back to Cornucopia," Domick said. "I remembered seeing a small stream opposite the horn."

Oh, joy. Coincidentally, the sound of horns playing suddenly echoed throughout the arena.

"What the?" I said, spinning around for the sound, when my eye caught something flashing in the bright, blue sky. I winced as my collarbone reacted to my movement.

A voice that could be heard from all throughout the arena – Claudius Templesmith's, I recognized – began to speak in a clear voice that reminded me we were all being watched, every single movement. The arena suddenly turned silent, as if the Gamemakers had stopped the nature itself in its tracks.

"Hello, tributes of the Hunger Games!" Claudius greeted cheerily, as if he was welcoming an audience. "May I now formally say – the top seven? To add a little spice to our thrilling adventure, there's going to be a feast at the break of dawn tomorrow, at Cornucopia!"

A feast. Translated, a second blood bath, although admittedly smaller, with only seven of us left. Was there really only seven?

"There will be mounds of useful, exciting gadgets all of you would drop everything and run for – from the best of foods to the most dangerous of weapons to the creams and lotions that could cure _any _injury you have, let it be a hacking coughs or stings! We have something, no, _everything_ that could secure your victory!" Claudius ended. I could just picture his fake, grinning face, spreading his arms out to emphasize '_everything'._

With that the sounds of nature replaced the silence that had been in the arena only seconds ago.

--

Author's Notes: Well, this chapter was probably one of the better ones for me to write. :)

Thanks to **ReesesPiecesxXxSkittlesMinis**,** Rainlite**,** Skyheart**,** Fangirl.x**, **Anonymous **and **Ayn Ehlora **for reviewing last chapter! I would put ALL of you guys on here for reviewing, but that's for the last chapter ;)

A big **THANK YOU** to all of you, have a great holiday, and until next time!

_Disclaimer: Hunger Games and its characters belong to Suzanne Collins, except for Domick and Nine._


	11. Chapter 11: Opportunity

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games and any of its characters except for Domick and Nine._

Author's Notes: I'm back! Happy New Year, everyone!! ^^  
**An important note about this chapter:** I've changed the number of tributes remaining from _9_ to _14_. After reading these over, I realized it wouldn't be much fun with only 9 tributes left, and most of them need to stay alive for the plot to go on…so _14 _tributes now. I'll change the numbers in the earlier chapters as soon as I can get to it, so for now, I'm leaving this up here.

--

Chapter Ten: Opportunity

"Well, what can you say," I sighed, staring at the flowing water by our feet.

"I'm going," Domick said, looking down at me. "You don't have to, but this is an opportunity I shouldn't miss."

I nodded and said, "If this stream does go back to Cornucopia, you should go now and camp by it so you can get first pick." I sighed and sat down cross-legged on the shore. He had made it clear he wanted to split and go our separate ways, and the appropriate time had come knocking.

In a way, it was actually good. For one, he wouldn't be forced to eventually kill me, watch me get killed, or have me by to soften his blows.

I started picking absently at the reeds by the edge of the bank. I barely noticed Domick bidding a quiet farewell as I thought, _there's his opportunity. Where's mine? Or, what is mine?_

Maybe there was a certain path waiting for me at Cornucopia. No, there were three paths I could take now. Should I stay away, and hope for the best? Or should I follow to the feast, and die, or survive there?

My mind wasn't hard to make up, though. Sitting around doing nothing while all the action was going on elsewhere started itching at my skin like a flea.

I decided I would throw caution to the winds and go, but not to rip out throats or anything. The only non-risky option would be to just watch from afar. What could possibly go wrong with that?

Maybe it's best not to answer that.

I picked up my bag and slung it over my good shoulder, then felt my left collarbone with my hand. My left arm was practically useless now, if I tried to move I would be stunned with pain from my broken collarbone.

I slowly made my way upstream, careful to not leave tracks in the soft dirt. This feast would also be a good chance to see Rue, if she was going. It was most likely, though, as she, like everyone else, would not pass up such a decent prospect.

Climbing over a large rock and resting on its side, I finally realized how much my neck ached from the tension of always being on guard and looking around. I looked up into the bright, blue sky and the smoldering sun that looked so real. Some birds flew overhead.

Lying my head back onto the stone, I felt relief wash over my neck as I gazed at my watery reflection in the water, and the trees behind me, the wildflowers that grew alongside the bank. _If I got jumped right now…I would rather it be here. It's sort of…pretty._

Another voice jumped in. _Stupid!_

_Excuse me for trying to enjoy my last days, _the other retorted.

_Excuse me for wanting to be alive, _the other countered.

I blinked open my eyes and wearily got back to my feet as I started back on my path to the golden horn.

--

My heart started jumping around a little faster as I spotted the tip of Cornucopia glinting in the still burning sun. I started to skulk closer to the base of the trees, not progressing forward, but slowly zigzagging my way up.

The area around the horn as still vacant, as the items hadn't been dropped down yet. I wondered how the Gamemakers would achieve that without any tributes grabbing anything before dawn. Maybe they would just let the items rain down during the night. Or send hovercrafts with cranes to place the items neatly on the ground.

Either way, no tributes or items could be presently seen at the moment; I doubted I, besides Domick maybe, was the first one to arrive here. They were probably camping out in some tree, as I should do.

I took a good look at the trees surrounding me. Most of them didn't look suitable for climbing, and even if I tried, I couldn't possibly claw my way up with only one hand. However, there was no other alternative I could do without risking my life waiting until dawn.

Then, an idea came into my head. _Maybe this could work…_

Two minutes later and not much progress. I was using the black handled knife as a hold for me to pull myself up, stabbing the blade into the tree while keeping my left hand on a sturdy low branch. But my cuts weren't deep enough; I would have to stab the trunk many times to get a good hold.

Obviously, this wasn't going well. I chipped away at it as quietly as I could until the sun's intense rays started fading and I made several usable deep cuts into the tree.

Then came the excruciating task of pushing my muscles to the limit as I single handedly (literally) made my way up the tree.

The sound of rustling bushes made me quicken my pace, and soon I was frantically scaling it, my feet slipping a couple times.

The first tier of branches was as far as I dared to go as I balanced myself against the trunk and took out my rope, tying myself to the trunk.

No other sound came from the bushes again.

I narrowed my eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever was hiding out there, but couldn't see any other movement. Uneasy, I shifted my body to the other side of the tree, my head at an angle that let my eyes monitor the particular spot in the bushes out of the corner of my eye.

Even though I had probably sweated buckets and hadn't eaten anything since after the killing of the boy, all that concerned me was that unmoving spot the in the undergrowth. I was certain I heard someone, and people just don't disappear after two seconds.

Eventually my eyes began to cross and my head drooped forward – but not before the anthem blasted me awake as the tune – which apparently played much louder towards Cornucopia – began its steady, slow, marching beat, then the showing of the tributes in the sky.

When the boy's face appeared in the sky, I jolted a little, not knowing what to think. _I should've slept a little earlier, _I thought in distress.

There was no way I could sleep and wake up right at dawn, and there was no way I could make it through tomorrow without getting some shuteye.

The odd thing was, half of my mind was still conscious while the other half was in dreamland. I was dreaming, yet I still felt very conscious and when my hands rubbed against the tree's rough bark and I came back to reality I didn't know I had fallen asleep in the first thing. Weird things, I tell you.

--

The sound of thunderous pounding jerked me from my sleep, but my eyes were still closed.

It reminded me of a time Buttercup climbed onto the kitchen counter and accidentally knocked all the pots and pans down onto the floor, creating a loud cantankerous sound that must've woke everyone in the Seam up.

Although she didn't say it, I could just hear Katniss thinking about skinning the poor cat alive that morning.

The exploding sound continued until I suddenly snapped out of it and realized where I was. _Is it dawn yet? Did it start?_

I stood up on the branch, blinking sleep away from my eyes and loosening the rope's grip around me as I made my way around the trunk to get a better view of Cornucopia.

My eyes widened at the sight. The items that stacked up in neat rows starting from the golden horn were at least four feet tall and they seemed like colorful walls protecting Cornucopia.

My eyes swept the field once more, searching for any sign of what had caused the loud noise.

Several meters away from where I was standing, the ground looked torn up and smoke was wafting around the area. I squinted my eyes. _Land mines? Did the Gamemakers put mines in the ground like they did at the start?_

My brain couldn't figure out why the Gamemakers would put mines there – if they did.

I saw another silver object fly out of the bushes and more mines were set off.

_It must be one of the tributes. They're throwing things to set the mines off and get to the items._

I didn't understand this. Why not let the kids fight it out instead of easily letting them be killed by the mines? What purpose did the mines have? Whatever it was, not a single movement could be seen or heard throughout this area. Whoever was throwing the pellets continued to pitch them farther away, creating a pathway to the horn.

Staring hard at the field for a few more minutes after the last of the pellets had stopped, I wondered what was going to happen next. Obviously whoever was throwing the objects had either given up or run out of things to throw. And everyone else didn't want to take the risk by walking on mined land.

Then, from a different part of the arena, a shower of pebbles came flying out from the trees and several mines began to detonate, causing a stunning chain reaction that cleared a large pathway right to the most valuable items lying, untouched, in and around Cornucopia.

Before anyone else could do anything else, two figures darted from the place where the shower of pebbles came from and dashed towards the horn, dropping what seemed like large, ball capsules on the ground behind them.

They were well camouflaged in dark colors, probably for the night, and in this dim light no one could recognize the tributes. Clever.

A remote in one of the tribute's hand suddenly made me see sense. The capsules on the ground were grenades; one click of the button and anyone who tried to interfere with them would get blown up.

The two figures retreated into the safety and distance of the horn, probably taking advantage everything left there, just for them, with no competition.

Then another one of those pellets came from somewhere in the trees. I was certain the one who came up with the idea of throwing the objects to set off the mines weren't the two tributes that just came from the trees – it was this person.

This tribute shot a pellet towards the nearest capsule with amazing aim, and with enough force to roll it into one of the land mines, blowing the area up as well as those grenades that had been put there. A genius idea.

Now the path was clear. In the early morning light, I saw another tribute make a run for it, running in a zigzagging motion as if to try and dodge any blows that could come from behind.

Next came Foxface as she proceeded towards the lesser stacks, one half of her face puffy and heavily bruised as she walked backwards, her back to the items, head facing the forest, swinging from side to side, as if daring another one of us to come out.

While the most daring went to the horn, she took benefit of the rest of us, not moving, still in the trees, and under her quick, sly gaze, and the weapon she held threateningly behind her back we knew we were trapped.

She disappeared into the overflowing walls of goods as the remaining number of us didn't make another move.

Then it all happened very quickly – a tribute had been jumped on from behind and wrestling it out, they were rolling dangerously close to the mines…

The boy wrestling on top of the other twisted his arm so hard a crack could be heard from where the bone broke, then a punch at his face sent blood sputtering from his mouth.

I winced as the one on the ground let out a howl of pain, his arm of no use now, and his mouth gargling. He made a comeback though, as he used his foot to push into the other's stomach.

It was clear they were getting desperate, as they no longer had any sort of battling style, technique, or formation, just going all out with whatever they could get their hands on.

The boy with the broken arm used his foot again to smash his opponent's jaw and wrenched him from the ground, as if trying to throw him off track. This continued in a seemingly pattern…boy fights back…boy retreats, boy makes comeback, boy falls…

But they were too intent on trying to gain advantage of each other…one of their heads hit the ground a few yards from where they started, and then all was gone in a puff of smoke.

Once the smoke from the mine cleared, nothing was left of the tributes, except for a bloody streak on the ground where they wrestled. Then I noticed other fights going on farther away from me.

A girl had ripped a limb of her victim and was proceeding to using him for setting off the mines, taking whatever he had on him, his shoes, his bags, and threw them out to the mine field.

Once everyone caught on to the trick they started de-mining the field, flinging their opponents at the mines. I suppose it was actually luckier for the victims in some way, having it end quickly and not gruesomely.

This new tactic was quickly becoming everyone's killing way as the bigger, stronger ones leapt onto the smaller tributes and hurled them to their deaths. An easy way to weed out many of the tributes, but it was most likely not what the Gamemakers had in mind at all.

This had managed to lure quite a few of us out, but maybe six or seven still remained in the cover of the trees, including me.

What happened next was totally expected of the Gamemakers and us tributes – but probably not to the audience at home. A single, loud howl at the sky, even though it wasn't night, made us look back, or climb higher into our trees.

A cross between a human, wolf, and bear came lumbering out of the bushes, followed by a horde of other mutations.

I cringed suddenly. The leading wolf-like mutt strongly resembled the tribute whose life I took. If it was programmed to have revenge on whoever took its life, I would stand no chance at all, and be subjected into a long death, far from being thrown quickly to the end.

The mutt army swarmed around the trees, threateningly leaping up a couple branches before crashing back down on their weight. If I could climb higher, I would, but the trees started thinning at the top, preventing many of us from being able to go up higher.

This was probably the purpose of all this. To flush us out from the safety of the trees and join the fray.

I nervously clung close to my trunk, hoping none would notice me. Some tributes actually had to courage to run all the way to the feast area, but were soon run over by the mutts and gnawed until they were still alive, but only because the mutts had left all the vital organs intact.

Then they dragged them to a pile in the middle for everyone to see, carcasses with their heart still pumping, yet they could make no sound…their mouths had been torn off.

I glanced back down, fear pulsing throughout my body in dizzying waves as the large mutt I had seen earlier that looked so similar to the tribute began running and throwing itself against my tree's trunk, as if trying to shake my off.

My collarbone shrieked as I clenched the trunk when the impact shook my whole body.

Lucky for me my rope was still holding me to the tree, and I clutched it literally like a life line, thinking, _any second, any second. _

Something attached to my side pricked me as the tree swayed dangerously again and my injured arm cried out in pain. The knife. Willing to give anything a try, I weakly leaned over my branch, and flicked the knife down at the mutt.

The mutt's skin was like several layers of leather; the knife stuck to its frizzled pelt yet the mutt kept going without noticing anything.

Suddenly, an idea drifted its way into my frenzied brain. I was thinking of using something as bait to lure the mutt away from me, but the mutts didn't appear as dumb as they looked. I wondered if this would actually work.

Crouching down on the branch, I yanked my bag off and tried to stuff it up so it looked bigger, piling the blankets up and tearing leaves and wadding it up inside. Then I tore off my jacket and draped it around the bag. I cut off one of its straps so I could lower to the bag down from my branch.

Any moment, this tree was going to tip over, I was sure of it. I swung the bag over the branch a couple of times, then hung it over the beast's head, wondering if he'd take the bait. The jacket had my scent on it, so hopefully the mutt would grab at it without hesitating.

It did, and once his teeth caught into the bag and sank into all the garbage I put into it, I slid down the other side of the tree, feeling my skin scrape and bleed as I leapt off the last few feet.

Hearing the limb crash down on the mutt whose teeth was still sunk into the bag, I started running for my life on the cleared path to the stacks of items, knowing it was my safest bet now.

A few mutts left their victims to join the chase for me, a fresh new piece of meat.

I never ran so hard before, my wounded arm feeling as if it would tear off any second as the barking behind me and the walls of items in front of me grew closer.

_Almost there…almost there…_ my breath was knocked out of me as I was bowled over to the ground from behind.

I felt my body being dragged backwards, the skin on my foot being torn off by the beast's jaws, the heavy smell of blood…

I grabbed the knife from my belt and stabbed it into the ground, my hands gripping tightly to the handle. I was going to hold onto that handle no matter what.

Then I heard more barking from behind and I closed my eyes tight as I imagined mutts racing to pile up on me.

"AHHHHH!" My eyes snapped open as I turned my head towards the sound.

Another tribute, being chased by the mutts, chose to go suicidal and launched himself willingly on the mines. I shut my eyes tight and grasped the handle tighter, knowing I would get some impact from the mines.

I was blown to the side, and the weight on my foot was lifted, but I could feel the skin there, torn, bitten, and blood flowing from it.

My hand was still attached to the knife which flew up from the ground with me. Knowing I only had a few seconds to get back up and run, I pulled myself up, feeling exhaustion and hurt trying to pull me down as I blindly raced my way through the smoke.

When my head hit something hard, I started scaling it, hoping I was climbing the stack.

I collapsed onto something soft, and wanted to sink right into the pile, feeling a little bit more reassured. My eyes caught a box of strawberry flavored crackers and a stack of books my hand was resting on. _Where did they get all this stuff?_ I thought, feeling plush blankets underneath me and a bucket of paint somewhere underneath all that.

Nothing was more tempting than the inviting packages of food and water, but I still wasn't completely safe up here, and I had the other tributes to think about.

I tried to prop myself up on my arm but had forgotten about my arm injury for a moment, and earned myself excruciating pain from both my torn heel and my crushed collarbone. Giving in, I settled for laying on my stomach, keeping my head down and low at all times.

After a little while I lifted myself slowly, a couple inches off the blankets with my right arm, and swiveled around so my head was facing the battlefield. I started to creep towards the edge, dragging my feet and using my fingers as hooks to grab onto the items jutting out from the pile.

Bending over the edge, I saw that the mutt had given up its chase on me and was tearing apart a body part I couldn't, and didn't want to distinguish.

Seeing the blood made me think about my own injuries, and I quickly wadded up the blanket to my heel, which the skin was literally hanging like blood icicles. The sudden pressure made my head dizzy as the pain overwhelmed me.

I was careful to not let my tattered skin stick to the blanket or else when I unwrapped it the skin would tear off as well.

I crawled deeper into the feasting area and took a new bag, and stuffed as much food, water, bandages, healing creams and painkillers into the bag as possible, when the barking grew considerably louder.

I inched slowly past the stacks of things and to Cornucopia, where the barking turned into a loud, raging chorus.

There I saw the two figures hanging on to the horn the ones who had first run to Cornucopia – Cato and Clove, not surprisingly – struggling to fling an unfortunate tribute down to the mass of mutts.

The tribute had gone completely insane, screaming not words, but random letters and wringing around like a dying fish out of water. His eyes were wild and in a seizure as he finally threw up.

"Get off, you disgusting runt!" Cato jerked his hand away and brought his foot down on the boy's head. The boy, still screaming his lungs out, fell on the ground, writhing as the mutts took hold of him.

My hands and face turned pale as I couldn't look away or plug my ears, in fear this slightest movement would make the mutts suddenly aware of me, hiding behind the items.

Then, as if someone commanded in their head, they turned right on their heels and bolted out past Cornucopia, the forest, the stream, into the distance without another bark.

Cato let out a stream of profanities as he slid down the horn and onto the ground. His left arm had such a long gash it looked like it could almost split the arm into two.

I heard Clove say, "Don't worry. We're the only ones here. Looks like everyone became scaredy-cats and ran away. I'll find medicine easily."

"We don't know when those mutts are coming back," Cato muttered, getting back up on his feet. "We should get away from here. They might come back at intervals. And you're hurt too, Clove."

Clove looked away, her hair concealing her cut ear and clawed shoulder.

Something struck me – perhaps I was going insane too, but an opportunity – a crazy one – was presenting its open door to me. My heart, a base drum, beat hard and loud, as I took a half-step, half-wobble out of the shadows of where I was hiding.

I cleared my throat.

The two of them looked at me, their eyes turning hostile and menacing, jumping up, weapons at hand.

"Looks like a little mouse got lost," Clove sneered, even as blood flowed down her arm and chest. She was certain I would be no problem for her, as she took out two sharp, curved knives and calculated her pounce.

"You need someone to heal you, both of you," I said levelly, knowing these two were in no position to leap at me now. They were too exhausted and beat down. As if he knew what I was thinking, Cato snarled and launched at me.

I shot to the side instinctively, but he fell inches short of me.

Clove looked to be in thought, pondering about what to do next.

I could almost predict what she was thinking – heal them both, and kill me off in the middle of the night. I narrowed my eyes. Things had a way of going off track at the last minute, and I was hoping this was one of those scenarios.

Clove answered me, "If you're going to heal us, you're going to do it when we are awake. You're going to put the own medicine on your skin before putting it on us, and make sure we see you do it. One of us will always be watching you, and if we find out you've done something to us, I will carve you until all your flesh lies in a pile, got it?"

One side of her mouth upturned into a cruel smirk, and I knew she was serious. If I did anything as simple as smile without their approval, I would be skinned alive. But stepping out of those shadows had already made me bound to them – I was going with them whether I changed my mind or not.

I nodded slowly, limping forward slightly, and my gaze flitted back to the battlefield. It was clear now, and when my eyes caught the pile of flesh, I knew that memory would always be burned into my head, and it would continue to haunt me for the rest of my life.

_What if Rue was one of them? Domick? What if they were already ripped to pieces? _An impatient order from behind made my head snap back to Clove.

"You can carry our bags and anything else we want from this dump. We're heading out now."

I lurched over to where two backpacks and a small pouch lay, then added them to my own bag as I followed their ragged forms down past the hills of Cornucopia. I heard the faint hum of the hovercraft as they glided over the feast, picking up the remains of the human carcasses. Humans who had friends back at home. Who had loved ones believing in them. Who had parents mourning them. Who had a whole life to go on.

A living person with beliefs, hopes and dreams. Who were once just like me.

--

_Is this the end of the feast?_

_--_

Author's Notes: Okay, points off for the uncreativity of the mutts in the feast. But the Gamemakers had to add something to the feast to make it interesting! Aw, Domick didn't get a chance to show up in this chapter and show off his secret talent. But I'm definitely writing in a fighting scene with that knife-whip, so more gore and lost souls coming up. That makes this sound like a horror movie. Until next time!

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	12. Chapter 12: Normalcy

Author's Notes:

_Thank you to: _**Fangirl.x**, **niki :)**,** XxXxSkyheartxXxX**,** SummerRayne**, **rainlite**, **Steff Malfoy1**,** asd asd, J.**,**I'mEdWaRd'SlAtUaCaNtAnTe**,**Hahukum Konn**_**, **__and _**Anonymous **_for all your awesome reviews :)_ _(and anyone else I might've missed)_

This is the space where I had my totally lame excuse for the wait. Now it's blank and filled with a totally lame excuse for a filler. I guess I should just put down that I'm working my butt off on these upcoming chapters, so reward me with some reviews? :) Anyway… here you guys go.

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games or any of its characters, except for Domick and Nine._

--

Chapter Eleven: Normalcy

Once we entered the darkening forest, the Careers shifted their formation to me being in the middle, Clove guarding the back and Cato leading in the front. Despite their deep wounds they still had a lot of stamina, and kept to a brisk pace.

I tried not to put on much weight on my heel, but I could still feel the warm blood staining the bandages under my tattered shoe, and resisted the urge to let out a moan. This was not going well.

All the backpacks and bags were strung on my right arm, my arm starting to grow sore and wanting to just break the straps away, but I couldn't risk putting more tension on my collarbone than I already had.

Through the fabric of the bags I could feel the hard, circular shape of a metal bottle of some substance, many vials of what I assumed to be medicine, a tightly rolled up sleeping bag, and some other small objects I couldn't identify by touch. All in all, the pack was lumpy, bulky, and made me feel sluggish and weighed down.

As much as I would've liked to turn my head back to keep an eye on Clove's bloodthirsty gaze and sharp knives within close reach, I kept my eyes to the ground, and hopefully, myself. What was Katniss thinking about my latest 'alliance', if you could call it that? Haymitch?

My thoughts were interrupted by Cato growling, "All right, girl, start your work." I lifted my eyes, noticing we had come to a stop. I could understand why he wanted to stop now. For one, it was so dark I could barely see my hand in front of me. Second, the heavy stench of blood was apparent now.

Sliding the full and heavy packs down to the ground, I dug my hands into the mess and tried to locate something that could help me see.

"I'm pretty sure I grabbed two flashlights," Clove said, wrenching the bag from me and digging her own hand inside. She pulled out a tiny flashlight that had three buttons on them, and tried each one in turn.

The bottom button had the dimmest light. The second a bright light that didn't shine far. The third the most intense that could shine for several yards. She threw that to Cato, then dug out another less complex flashlight and a small tin box then tossed the bag back to me.

"I'll look for the night-glasses later," she said, resting herself against a tree and feeling for her injuries. She glanced up at me, uninterested. "What's your District?"

I kept my eyes down as I answered "twelve" and heard Cato give a remark.

"Twelve, huh. Know what happened to you district partner, girl?"

"N-no," I answered quietly. It seemed best to answer questions with as little words as possible.

"I wouldn't think so," Cato managed to sneer after he had to rip his bandage from his skin, which the blood had stuck to.

My fingers made contact with the small bottles I had felt earlier and as I brought it out in front of my eyes, I could barely make out the letters that read "Sting Treatment". Nope. Not this one.

Putting the bottle carefully down on the ground, I examined the next one. It was for poison. After another two bottles that were for fever and sleep medicine, I was starting to lose hope in my plan. If I didn't heal them quick, it was going to be trouble for me.

The Careers didn't want to risk shining their flashlights in the darkness, and resorted to moving next to each other, a little farther away from me, to talk in low, serious voices. After picking up the third to last bottle, relief surged through me. It read "Blood Loss Medicine".

I separated this one from the others and prayed that the next ones were as useful. The next one was for infections. I was probably going to need that later. The last one, its words shadowed by the darkness, could possibly be read as some kind of peroxide.

_Oh, if only I had my herbs, _I thought helplessly, now proceeding to think about how to apply the medicine to the two Careers. The familiar, musky scent of herbs, which I sorely missed, was so different compared to unknown Capitol medicines.

How much should I have to apply? Would there be enough? Would I have to give up all the medicine to them in case there wasn't enough for me?

"Are you done yet," Cato's voice hissed through the darkness. Then he shone a dim light in my face. I squinted and put up a hand as the flickering yellow light faintly reflected on my face. I nodded quickly and brought the bottles up in front of my face so he could see.

"This one," I said, pointing out one of the bottles, "you should put on first on your more serious wounds, then put these on the minor ones, bandage and reapply the infection medicine in a couple of hours." Knowing what they would be asking, I twisted the cap off the infection medicine and smeared it onto my skin, then did the same with the other two as proof I wasn't poisoning them.

Cato gave a brief nod and Clove's hand reached out to grab the medicine. I lightly tossed them to her, making sure the precious liquid didn't spill, and started searching through the bags for some bandages as they produced their water cans and cleaned the blood from their injuries, then sifting the soil on the ground to cover it up. I heard them wince and let out a breath a few times while dabbing the medicine onto their skin.

The best I could find was a thin but long piece of soft, blue fabric that I used my pocketknife to cut into strips before Clove's light flicked on as well as she, after a little effort but not showing any pain, got up and crept over to the bags, quietly rummaging through the clutter.

"Here they are," she said under her breath, her hand reaching in and bringing out two of those night glasses I had seen before. She threw one to Cato who thrust his flashlight off and put on the glasses. I had been given no directions, so I silently pushed the bandages a little towards them and began collecting all the items I had put on the ground.

Clove clicked open the tin box I saw her take out and popped a few pill-like capsules into her mouth, and then passing it to Cato who did the same. I tilted my head in the darkness, not sure what they were doing.

"Energy pills," Cato muttered, setting the box on the ground and sliding it somewhat in my direction. "If I'm lucky I can get a couple more of those last tributes while they're still weak tonight."

I picked the box up in my hands, uncertain. I had never taken these before, and wasn't sure what the effects would do to me. However under the Careers' furtive gaze I opened the tin, took two of the hard white capsules and gingerly placed them in my mouth.

The taste was about the equivalent of chalk and dust, and I almost gagged just trying to swallow a piece down my throat. When I did, I rubbed my sweaty palms on my pants and worked up enough saliva to try and wash off the dry, dusty taste of the pills.

Cato tested out his arms and legs, doing a few simple stretches, then gave a disgruntled, curt nod before forcing himself up. I saw Clove flash a quick glance towards her district partner before turning away just as quickly. I smiled to myself, picking up a hint of the slightest bit of normalcy these two seemed to have just exhibited. In her eyes…was worry.

--

Author's Notes:

I should also say I'm shortening the chapters a bit just for the sake of more frequent and easier-to-reach updates. I had a long writers' block because I was in a state of questioning my characters and the plot. My thought? It sucks. The storyline, the characters…just about everything I did myself in this creation. As I reread the past chapters I realized how superficial some of my characters seemed and the story didn't have that feeling of _depth_, like in the amazing Hunger Games itself. I wish to instill that in my other stories in the future :D

If writers had some special case of depression where they doubted what they did and felt bad for doing it and wished they could redo it, I guess I had that for a while. But I'm back :)

Only 1,576 words… D: What do you guys think? Shorter chapters in faster updates or longer chapters (I'm talking 11,000+ words) in longer updates? This calls…for another poll :D Until next time! (Which is very, very, very, very, soon).

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	13. Chapter 13: Wary

Chapter Twelve: Wary

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.

Author's Note: Most of you wanted short chappies and fast updates. ^^ Can still add your opinion to the pool if you want, though, until I think of something else to poll.

Apparently I was the Careers' new baggage holder as I dogged behind them and hid while they ambushed gloating tributes who decided they were fit to survive the rest of the Games with items from the Feast. Sort of sad, really. Although the Careers looked vicious, the fact I could be holding their lives in the medicine bottles in my hands every night made them much mellower.

Too much of one could make them dizzy enough for me to strike them. Unfortunately, they heard of my killing record somehow and when it got to their mind I had actually volunteered to join them it certainly made them suspicious.

So all in all I felt less afraid and a little more sure of my choices now. I also seemed to rely on the future on what was going to happen, and could do nothing more as obviously I wasn't any tougher mentally or physically, and only had the power of drugs.

I wondered how my progress was doing on T.V. back at home. Did everyone think I had gone insane? Do insane people wonder if they're insane? Hm, I must be going insane or 'insane' is the new word of the day.

I suppose I should be scared because the number of remaining tributes was thinning down and I was going to be killed off sooner or later, but making that decision to step of the shadows, having a certain power advantage made me feel a little more on the upside every day.

I'm pretty sure I'm going insane now.

In fact, I'm getting so used to the sounds of Clove and Cato playing vicious bloodthirsty killers I barely get shocked or jump at the sounds of a tussle, thinking of another poor tribute that has to suffer for the sake of entertainment. But I can't go on moping about it. There's nothing that can be do to help it besides survive this first then worry about the future.

Then the force of someone slamming into me, knocking the breath out of me as I collided with the ground made me snap my head up. I saw that Cato had another boy by the neck and Clove sat on top of the other boy, one knee on either side. It looked like those two tributes were fighting before we arrived here and the Careers broke up the fight and began to proceed to a much worse fate for those two.

I crawled over into a clump of long grass and made sure the bags survived and nothing had fallen out. That was my main duty, after all, as the official baggage holder.

Gurgling sounds and coughing ensue from said fight. I turned my head over just to make sure I wasn't needed to throw one of them an extra knife or mace and realized I recognized _both _of the tributes. It was Domick and Nine.

Boy, a reunion party.

Then it struck me Domick must've pushed me out of the way because he thought I was in danger from the Careers. We sure got a lot of catching up to do. And Nine…my eyes narrowed as I glared at the boy. Nine wasn't looking my way.

"I thought you knew better than to rush straight ahead," Cato was saying. "Hey…hey…I remember you." Cato suddenly pulled back his dagger from Domick's neck but his grip on the arm didn't loosen.

Clove tilted her head to one side, her knife lightly skimming just beneath Nine's eyes as her lips curved in recognition as well. "Well, hi again, little buddy. Didn't think you were still alive, and in my neck of the woods."

Nine's eyes widened even more in terror and then immediately shut them, as if widening them any more would cause the knife to gauge his eye out.

Domick knew he only had a few moments to spare, to try and get himself onto their side again. "That other girl…the one with the sly, thin face and red hair. I know where she is; I managed to injure her before this guy came along and tried to backstab me, but I know where she went."

"Good try. I guess we could let you tag along, though," Cato smiled, maliciously, thoughtfully. He was probably thinking, _Round 'em up. It'll make no difference in the end, just all the more easier to kill._

I forced myself not to look at Domick as Nine and him were let up and I crawled from my place in the grass. I could feel their eyes on the back of my head as I looked towards the sky and followed the sounds of the Career's footsteps away from the area.

I kept on my toes for a chance to sneak a few words in with Domick, because there was so much I missed out on…did he see Rue? What happened to her? What's with Nine? But one look and I knew those could wait as I slipped him a bottle of medicine to put on the nasty, jagged cut on his shoulder, probably from Cato.

My chance came when Nine, who had been stumbling along as best as he could behind us finally gave out and dropped to the ground. Clove and Cato, seemingly more agitated as the cannons fired above. They seemed to be backtracking to see when they would have to kill us, and eventually, fight it out.

Domick and I held back a bit, as if asking for an 'okay' from the Careers – they must've sensed our paused footsteps and kept on going. I started walking backwards towards and Nine and knelt down, first feeling his forehead. His cheeks were flushed, his forehead mildly warm. This was starting to shape up bad.

"So when did you team up with them?" I looked up. Domick didn't seem too pleased I hadn't made any mention of this. He looked wary, actually. Wait…wary…of me?

"It was the spur of the moment," I replied quickly, brushing away my thought as I reflected back to the moment I stepped out of the shadows.

I instinctively checked Nine's arms, back, and legs for any telltale injuries and then for bruises on his stomach that caused him to be coughing and gurgling every few seconds. These were the most common areas of injury, and I wasn't surprised to see a festering wound by his kneecap.

Domick knelt down beside Nine and felt the pockets of the jacket and torn pants. He took out a crudely made stone knife and a few bandages, which he pocketed. "I don't want him taking advantage of anyone while we're playing sorry for him," he explained. "So, you've replaced me as bag carrier, have you?"

I took out a handful of white pills with different colored stripes in the middle and selected three purple striped ones, then looked around to see if Clove and Cato had come back to check on us. Then I forced Nine's clenched jaws open and shoved the pills in. They should come into effect soon.

Wiping my hands on the grass, I put everything back into the bag. "Yeah, pretty much. What's happened with you? Actually, I want to know what this guy's been up to. First he ditches me and Rue, and now he's getting himself into trouble. He was never the bold face in the first place," I said. This statement made me want to bring up more questions, but I kept them in. At least for now.

Domick thought back. His eyebrows knit together before the thought seemed to strike him and he turned back to me. "It all makes sense."

Author's Note: The question is, what does? =)

Smack it.


End file.
